The lives of immortals
by Meercatwhisperer112
Summary: A series of drabbles and mini arches set both before and after the movie focusing mainly on Jack but also looking at other characters. Covers pretty much all genres, except for Romance. Request accepted. (chapter 38: They all had known this was coming, except for Jack.)
1. I lost a bet

**So, because you guys seemed to like my writing and because I really enjoyed doing the other fanfic I wrote, I decided to attempt a drabble. If anyone has any requests or ideas they will be well recieved, and please review!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own RotG (if I did there would be a sequel, and a TV show, and way more fan merch)**

* * *

_Set after the movie  
_

"I hate you."

"You would have done the same to me."

The door swung open and Tooth fluttered in distractedly, only to freeze when she saw the two of them. Jack scowled heavily while Bunny desperately tried to repress the sniggers rocking through his body.

"Do I want to know?" she asked finally. Jack's scowl deepened.

"I lost a bet." Tooth's lips twitched and Bunny looked smug.

"I told you, but you wouldn't listen."

"What was the bet?"

"An anything goes, no holds barred speed challenge."

"So... a race?" Bunny shrugged.

"Sort of. Except you were allowed to trip, assault, or do whatever else. Frostbite thought he could win by freezing my feet to the floor."

"I almost won," said Jack defensively, his cheeks blushing blue.

"What happened?"

"I got him in the back of the head with my boomerang." Bunny put the finishing touch in place and stepped back to admire his handiwork. Tooth didn't think she'd ever seen Jack look so ready to murder someone, but she couldn't stop a small giggle from escaping her.

"If it makes you feel better," she told the winter spirit, desperately trying to keep a straight face, "I think you look dashing." His cheeks blushed a deeper red, and Bunny couldn't take it anymore. With a snort he fell backwards, clutching his sides as though he would explode with laughter. "How long do you have to... well..."

"The whole day," sighed Jack. Tooth's lips twitched again as she glanced at the clock in the corner: it was only ten in the morning. "And I have to show everyone." A sudden jolt of panic shot across his face. "Oh god!"

"What?" asked Tooth. Bunny was still incapacitated by hysteria.

"I promised Jamie I'd go visit him this afternoon." Bunny paused now, his face lighting up like a child's on Christmas. "Bunny, I don't suppose I could-"

"No chance, mate. A deal is a deal." Jack groaned, imagining Jamie's expression when he turned up. A golden hot air balloon floating past the window caught Tooth's attention.

"Sandy's here," she announced; Jack groaned again. "Oh, just go in and get it over with!" He huffed and pouted, but eventually nodded in agreement, trailing after Bunny and Tooth as they headed to the main living room.

After the defeat of Pitch, meetings between the guardians became much more frequent as they all agreed to take time out from their jobs now and then. As well as impromptu visits of one to another, once a month they would all meet up at Santoff Clausen to catch up. Four years later, this tradition was still going and today was the day of one of those meetings.

"Wait here," ordered Bunny when they reached the door, "and come in when I tell you." He and Tooth headed in, both of them smiling widely.

North had known Bunny for several centuries now, and they were good friends. So when he saw that grin on Bunny's face, and the matching one on Tooth's, his first instinct was to check and make sure nothing was on fire. The Pooka may have always been complaining about Jack's tricks, but he conveniently forgot how much of a prankster he'd been himself.

"Bunny," said North slowly. "What is going on? Where is Jack?" Bunny's grin somehow widened, and Sandy shot North a worried look.

"Jack's had a bit of an identity crisis," said the Pooka, "and wanted me to tell you he is no longer called Jack. She is now called Jade, and she would like you to respect her wishes." Tooth, who'd been shaking with silent laughter, collapsed on the floor as her wings gave out. North raised an eyebrow and Sandy shrugged. "Jade, dear!" called Bunny. "Please come in."

The door swung slowly open. North and Sandy froze, grins creeping onto their faces as well, though they tried to hide them. Bunny took one look at the winter spirit's face, scarlet with embarrassment, and he joined Tooth on the floor.

Jack was in a long pink dress with three layers of petticoats underneath. He was wearing three inch lilac stilettos and a large lilac bonnet on his head. Hot pink ribbons were wrapped around his staff in bright bows. His normally snow white hair was candyfloss pink, and curled into tight ringlets. He'd never felt so ridiculous.

"Jack... uh, Jade I mean," said North stiffly, trying to keep his expression under control. "You look lovely." A muscle twitched in his head as he tried not to laugh. "How many sheep did you say you lost again?" And with a great snort he fell back into the armchair, laughing hysterically as his booming voice echoed through the corridors. Sandy rolled through the air, tears of delight running down his face as he tried to regain control of his limbs. Jack felt his lips twitch, and he rolled his eyes, grinning as well.

"Yeah, well, cupid wanted to take some time out, so I agreed to fill in," he said with a shrug. North was going blue in the face, and Tooth seemed to be struggling to breath. A group of yetis had crowded around the door to see what the fuss was about, and they too were laughing. Jack waved at them cheerfully, but froze when a flash went off.

Two elves were grinning up at him, a large camera in hand. Jack raised an eyebrow and they giggled nervously, trying to look innocent.

"You have three seconds to delete that photo," he warned them. With excited squeals they fled down the corridor, Jack hot on their heels. He zapped them with ice and was about to crush the camera when Bunny snatched it with a smirk.

"I think I'll be keeping this." Jack scowled, but the Pooka laughed. "Don't worry; I'll only use it to blackmail you." The winter spirit rolled his eyes and returned to the living room, where the other guardians were still struggling to regain their composure.

* * *

"Jack?" Jamie's eyes widened as he took in the sight. Jack's lips twitched into a smile: he could handle Jamie seeing him like this. "What are you wearing?"

"I lost a bet against Bunny," he explained ruefully. Jamie spluttered with laughter as the door swung open and Sophie walked in. She stared up at Jack in awe.

"Pretty!"

"I know I am," he said, swinging her up.

"Jack a girl!" she squealed, wriggling back down again. "Jack a princess!" She was nearly six and had increased her vocabulary significantly.

"No," Jack laughed, "Jack a sexually ambiguous transgender." She paused, lips moving silently as she tried to grasp the words. Jamie punched Jack's arm.

"Don't say things like that! She's just a little kid!" Jamie was thirteen now, and thought he knew pretty much everything he could know on matters such as these. Claude and Caleb had a brother who was a senior, and they were quick to pass on his wisdom.

A sly look snuck into Jack's eyes, and Jamie paused. He'd seen that look before, usually right before Jack pulled some sort of prank.

"Hey Sophie," Jack smiled at the little girl. "Don't you think Jamie would want to be a princess?" Sophie nodded and clapped her hands, running out of the room to grab the stuff. Jamie backed away.

"Oh, no," he said. "Uh uh. I am not putting on a dress!"

"Wanna bet?" smirked Jack as Sophie ran back in clutching a sparkly orange get up. Jamie tried to run out the room but Jack snagged him around the waist, pinning him to the floor and tickling him as Sophie smeared their mother's lipstick over his face.

"Pretty," she breathed as Jamie was zipped into the dress, his other clothes still on underneath. He scowled at the winter spirit defiantly.

"At least I don't look as ridiculous as you!" At that moment the door swung open again.

"Jamie, Claude and Caleb have come to see if you want to..." She trailed off when she saw her son, Claude and Caleb peering around her. "Is that my lipstick?" she asked finally. Claude and Caleb could see Jack as well, and they were sniggering at the sight of both boys in dresses. Jamie blushed bright red.

"I lost a bet," he mumbled defeatedly.

* * *

**Okay, so correct me if I'm wrong, but in the movie Jamie looked around nine, and Sophie was two-ish. I couldn't find any actual canon for this, so I'm guessing.**

**Also, is Jack's little sister called Pippa (because that's the name most people use) or is it just a well-spread headcanon?**


	2. Tribute to Isolation

Bunny hated the cold with an absolute passion. He loathed it. Despised it. He tried to avoid it unless absolutely necessary, so him hiking through Antarctica was more than a little out of character. He did have a reason, though: a rare type of magical snow flower was due to bloom for the first time in two hundred years. It had properties that could preserve his googies, allowing him to spread the workload over the whole year, as opposed to a hectic two months before Easter. It was definitely worth it; at least, that was what he was telling himself.

If only he could have taken his tunnels. It would have saved him an incredible amount of time, effort and body heat. Unfortunately, a key element of magical vegetation was that no magic could be performed near it. That meant no magical flying sleigh, golden sand or, in Bunny's case, tunnels.

He glanced around and nodded to himself, beginning to recognize where he was. It might have been two hundred years since his last trek, but he was good with directions. It had something to do with his Pooka heritage. Once he reached the top of this slope, there was an ice sheet that was about half a mile across, another small slope, and he was there.

His memory flashed back to the last time he had crossed the ice sheet, and a small smile tugged at his lips. He had been startled to find a group of about a dozen ice sculptures just randomly standing in the middle of the field. Now, though, he supposed he could work out who had done it. He climbed a bit faster, wondering if they were still there. Reaching the top of the slope, he froze.

There were dozens of them, at least a hundred, scattered around the ice sheet, along with frozen props and furniture. A woman in an ankle length Victorian dress and bustle stood clearly talking to a gentleman in a confederate uniform. Their faces were animated with happy laughs. A little way on there was a man in a ragged outfit and a cloth cap leaning against a shipping container squinting at a book. Concentration lines were etched on his face. Off to one side was an ice tree, every branch and leaf in place, with two children swinging from the branches. An ice child played with a puppy. A group of hippies sat in a circle, one of them clutching a guitar. A bride and groom kissed. A mother rocked her infant child.

Bunny had marvelled at the detail, and thought about the time Jack must put in to each and every one. They were beautiful, and it pained him to think that they were languishing here in the Antarctic, hidden from the world.

He wondered how Jack had made them; did he carve them out of an ice block, like North did with his prototypes? Did he trace them out with his fingers, ice forming from thin air? The Pooka wanted to know: he was an artist, and these were beautiful.

Suddenly his delighted smile faltered as an unwanted image came to mind: Jack, all by himself, working hour after hour to make these perfect. Carefully correcting tiny blemishes, smoothing down the ice, fixing up little bits he didn't like until they were flawless. Then leaning back to admire his work, knowing he was the only one who would see it. Telling himself 'good job, Jack' because no one else would. Talking to the sculptures, because there was no one else to talk to. Safe in the knowledge that no one would notice his absence. No one would care if he disappeared.

Bunny's smile disappeared completely as he walked through. There was something eerie about it. The animated smiles on the sculptures' face coupled with the absolute silence made Bunny feel uncomfortable. He thought about three hundred years of it, and he shuddered. The sculptures were still beautiful, still flawless in every way, but now just looking at them made Bunny's heart ache.

He turned his gaze down as he walked through, trying not to dwell on it. Trying not to think about the absolute isolation, and the silence that was screaming at him. Finally he reached the end of the field, where he paused in surprise.

There was Sandy, perfectly rendered in ice, sitting conducting streams of frozen dream sand. His face was peaceful, and a small smile played around his lips. Bunny could see each individual grain of sand. Next to it was North, who was examining the cogs of a toy. His tattoos were carved onto his ice arms, and Bunny could almost believe the hairs in his beard were real. Sitting on his head were two of Tooth's little fairies, one of whom was clutching a tooth in her lap. Bunny remembered that Tooth and Jack didn't meet until they brought him to the pole, but obviously Jack had seen the fairies as they went about their jobs. The feathers were beautifully spun and looked as though they might snap at the slightest touch. Bunny was afraid to even breathe on them. He turned away, only for his eyes to settle on an ice version of himself.

Ice Bunny was sat on his haunches, ears relaxed as they flopped slightly to the side. He was gazing into the distance, a content smile on his face, tribal markings slightly raised compared to the rest of his fur. Real Bunny followed the gaze, and realized that his effigy was watching two small children pull an Easter egg out from underneath a bush.

An emotion that he couldn't name washed over him as he looked at the sculpture's expression. He had never been kind to Jack. He had never even been civil. He and the boy had done nothing but argue before the child became a guardian. Yet Jack hadn't made him angry. Hadn't made him mean, didn't sculpt his face contorted into a snarl. He had put time and effort into making the sculpture, and he made the sculpture at peace. Bunny was touched.

With a sigh he turned away; glad to be leaving but glad to have seen it. The frozen smiles unnerved him. The total solitude of the place made him feel sad. The sculptures made him feel uneasy: a standing reminder to the isolation Jack had to bear. The Pooka shook himself and continued on his journey. Once the flower had been picked, he'd be able to open a tunnel and go home the easy way. He was grateful for that. He hoped that when he next passed through, in two hundred years time, no more sculptures would have joined the ranks.

As he walked, he considered telling the others about it. They would all want to see it, and he would have to be the one to show them where it was. Tooth would probably cry. North would be overawed. Sandy... well, Sandy would probably shake his head and turn away sadly.

But Jack hadn't shown it to them, he hadn't even mentioned it. It probably held a lot of painful memories for the child, and Bunny knew Jack didn't like talking about his emotions, especially the negative ones.

So Bunny decided against it. He decided to leave it as it was, sheltered from the Antarctic elements by the mountains that loomed around most of it. If Jack ever wanted to show them then he could. Until then, Bunny vowed to never mention the tribute to isolation.

* * *

_Wow! Four followers, three reviews and two favourites, and it's only been a couple of hours! I'm flattered!_

_I was so flattered that I decided to do a second one today, seeing as it's that last few days of holiday and then I'll only be updating once or twice a week. So here, have a nice bit of depression!_

_(And in case you were wondering, it's the blooming flower that prevents magic. That's why Jack could create the sculptures even though they were so close to it)_


	3. Kidnapping Sophie

**Sorry for the late update, and thanks to everyone who's followed/favourited/reviewed :)**

* * *

Pitch smiled to himself as he slid through the shadows, reaching towards the slumbering figure. The boy had long since stopped believing; what more could be expected from a twenty-four year old. But the girl: her faith was still strong, her light still glowed brightly on his globe. Even better, the guardians knew her. They liked her. And little girls were always better for fear.

* * *

Jack returned to find the town of Burgess in uproar. He had only been gone a week, having had to spread several blizzards across the Northern hemisphere, but in that time something had changed. Children weren't running and playing anymore, but staying inside. When they did venture out, there was always at least one adult with them, or a tight knit group of at least six, with everyone glancing around warily.

It didn't take him long to find out what had happened. Sophie Bennet was the only child who had been there that night and still believed. He flew over to her house, hoping she could explain, and instead found policemen, a sobbing mother and a closed off Jamie.

Jamie looked different to the last time Jack had seen him, which was now... nearly two years ago? Already? Jack had checked up on him even after the boy (man?) had stopped believing, but then Jamie went to college in Florida, and that had effectively put an end to that. He hadn't come home in a winter month since.

There was no sign of Sophie anywhere in the house, and Jack's heart sank as he wondered why Jamie had come home in the middle of the semester and why Mrs Bennet was crying. Looking around for some sort of explanation, he noticed that morning's newspaper lying on the counter. It was the local newspaper, nothing national, and the headline read

**Still no sign of missing teenager**

Above a large photo of a happily grinning Sophie. Jack leaned forward to read the rest.

_Police are baffled by the disappearance of sixteen year old honour student Sophie Bennet, last seen at 10pm Saturday night. Sophie disappeared from her room, leaving a window locked from the inside and no signs of a struggle. Anyone with information is encouraged to-_

And so it continued. Jack realised he was breathing heavily. Today was Thursday. That meant that Sophie had been missing for five days.

He pulled out one of the snow globes North had given him for emergencies, and shot through, appearing in the globe room of the North Pole. He quickly flew to the luminescent orb, desperately scanning it for Sophie's light.

The lights were more than just pinpricks of gold: each light represented a child, and focusing on a light could tell you about that child. Their age, how happy they were, their name, and the strength of their belief. Jack shuddered in relief when he found Sophie's light, but that relief turned to fear as he realised where it was. He leapt to one side and pulled the emergency Aurora lever. Within two minutes, everyone was there.

"What is going on?" roared North, running into the globe room. He stopped when he saw the fear in the winter spirit's eyes. Bunny appeared out a hole, looking around to try and find the emergency, and Sandy whizzed through the window in a UFO. There was a muffled _thud_ as Tooth flew into the other window. One of the yetis let her in and helped her to her feet.

"What's going on, Frostbite?" asked Bunny. "Why'd you pull the signal?" Jack took a deep breath.

"Pitch kidnapped Sophie."

* * *

The Nightmare King smiled in anticipation; the girl was beginning to stir, and soon all her worst fears would come true. He didn't have many believers, but the disappearance of this one would strike fear into the hearts of both adults and guardians, not to mention the fear she herself felt when she realised where she was. His smile twisted into a sinister leer as she slowly blinked awake.

"Hello," he hissed in his most menacing voice. She stared at him blankly for a second before raising an eyebrow.

"Who the hell are you?" she slurred, sleep still fogging her mind. He leaned in closer.

"My name is Pitch Black. I'm sure you remember me." She blinked, recognition dawning in her eyes and her senses came to.

"The bogeyman?"

"Yes, and now that I-"

"Were you watching me sleep?" There was a pause as they stared at each other.

"Yes."

"WHAT THE HELL?" Pitch stumbled back in surprise as she leapt to her feet. She stalked forward, glaring down at him. "Where am I?"

"My lair." Pitch tried to make it sound threatening, but it came out as more of a startled yelp. He scrambled to his feet, only to falter at the look the girl was giving him.

"CREEP! Did you KIDNAP me?" The Nightmare King drew himself to full height, looking smug.

"Yes, I did. And now you-" A hand slapped him across the face, catching him by surprise. Sophie grabbed the front of his robes and yanked him so their faces were level.

"Take me home," she growled. A cage of nightmare sand appeared around her, separating the two of them.

"No," smirked Pitch, glad to once again have the upper hand. She eyed the walls of her cell furiously.

"Take me home!"

"No!" The blonde haired teenager stamped her foot and screamed. Pitch recoiled, covering his ears in pain. This wasn't like the scream of a normal child, as they ran from big dogs or bullies. These were the screams of someone who knew what they wanted and were determined to get it. She ran out of breath, but before he had a chance to react she gulped another lungful of air and continued to scream. With a final roar of frustration, Pitch fled the room.

* * *

Bunny was pacing furiously, steam practically coming out his ears.

"If he hurts one hair on Sophie's head!" the Pooka suddenly roared, making them all flinch in surprise.

"Bunny, it's all right," Tooth soothed, "we'll get her out of there, and then you can hurt him as much as you want." Bunny didn't look comforted.

"He's had her for five days. **Five days**. Why didn't we notice she was missing? Why didn't we know?"

"How could we know? Jamie doesn't remember us, and no one else would think of calling us." There was a hint of bitterness in the winter spirit's voice at the mention of Jamie. Jack had taken it hard when he lost his first believer.

"I am ready!" boomed North as he walked in, wielding his deadly twin swords. "Let us go, yes? Go save Sophie and pummel Pitch into dust!"

"Now that's more like it!" Bunny grinned vindictively. He didn't even complain about having to take the sleigh.

They shot out the mountain and into the clear, starry night. North looked around at his passengers.

"Is everyone ready to see Pitch?" they nodded, those who had weapons clutching them tighter. North pulled out a snow globe.

"I say... Burgess," he whispered, and they shot through the portal.

* * *

When Pitch returned to the room it was with considerably more caution than before. The girl was lying on the ground, staring up at the ceiling. She didn't seem at all bothered by her current situation; in fact, she seemed merely... bored. The Nightmare King glared down at her.

"I'm hungry," she stated before he could open his mouth.

"I don't care!" he spat.

"You should. If I die while I'm here, the guardians are going to kick your butt even harder than they will now."

"The guardians aren't coming, _girl_. The only company you have is me... and your worst fear." The nightmare materialized within the cage and began to stalk towards the child. She sat up and eyed it calmly. It bore down upon her, but as it was about to make contact she raised a finger. It paused as she leaned forwards, looking it square in its burning orange eyes.

"Touch me and die," she growled. It nickered nervously, then took a step away. Sophie raised an eyebrow, and it turned tail and fled. Pitch watched in horrified disbelief.

"I'm hungry," she repeated. "Get me something to eat. A salad, or maybe some pasta. I'm a vegetarian, though, so it'll have to be Neapolitan, not Bolognese or Carbonara." Pitch didn't move. "Well? Hop to it, Boogerman, my dinner isn't going to cook itself."

* * *

"The entrance to Pitch's lair is in these woods, about ten minutes away," Jack explained, floating above them with Tooth and Sandy hurried on foot. They could always have taken the sleigh there, or sent Jack, Tooth and Sandy ahead, but they wanted the element of surprise on their side, and they wanted to be at full power. There was nothing subtle about the sleigh and nothing powerful about being separated.

Horrible images crowded Bunny's head. Sophie, alone in a cell, chained to the wall. Screaming in fear as Pitch sent nightmare after nightmare after her. Crying for her parents, for her brother, for the guardians. _What if she stops believing?_ Sophie was getting older now. If Pitch could scare her enough, Bunny might lose his favourite believer. He hurried faster.

* * *

"I'm bored! There's nothing to do! Let me go home or entertain me!"

Pitch buried his head in his hands as the whining voice echoed through his chambers. It had been three days since he had kidnapped Sophie, and he thought he was going crazy. It wasn't even worth it. The fear from her parents and brother was good, but the guardians didn't even realise that anything was wrong. He had to keep her until they realised, but the girl herself didn't seem to be afraid of anything. All she did was complain and insult him.

"SHUT UP!" he roared, storming into the room with her cage. There was now a sofa in there, along with a bed, a mirror and a footstool. There was also a toilet, a wash basin and a luxury bath tub in another room he had added in.

She was lounging on the sofa, feet up and an ugly frown on her pretty features. Her upper lip curled in distaste at the sight of him, trembling in fury, on the other side of the bars.

"Do you get internet in here? Because I need to check my emails?" Pitch gritted his teeth, suppressing the urge to kill himself.

"No. I do not get internet here. I am the king of fear, I do not have wireless." She rolled her eyes, and went back to examining her nails.

"Typical. I don't suppose you have a TV?"

"No."

"God, Boogerman. You're so _boring._ I'm _bored_." Her voice was rising and fear crept into Pitch's heart as he realised she was going to start whining again. Or worse, screaming.

"I have books!" he said desperately. "You can read! I'll go fetch them!" She sighed.

"I suppose that'll do. Fetch me a snack while you're at it. _No meat_." He nodded and scurried off, grateful that she had shut up and hating himself for what he had been reduced to.

* * *

The guardians stared at the hole in the ground. The bed that had originally covered it was gone, and scratch marks showed where the Nightmare King had been dragged down. Jack looked at the others.

"Are you ready?" They all nodded. "Well, here goes." He jumped down first, followed by Bunny, Tooth, Sandy and North.

He landed lightly on his feet, quickly darting to the side for Bunny. Tooth and Sandy floated a bit above them as they peered around the chamber, wary of attack.

"Look out!" shouted North. Tooth and Sandy darted away, but Bunny was caught by surprise and suddenly found himself crushed under the weight of a three hundred pound Russian. Jack burst out laughing as North helped Bunny back to his feet, muttering "so sorry, old friend." Tooth giggled too, and Sandy grinned. North chuckled, but Bunny just looked disgruntled.

"You're here!" The voice made them whip around, weapons ready, all laughs forgotten. Pitch stood before them. A relieved smile broke across his face and, to their surprise, he fell to his knees. "Oh, thank god! You're here!"

"Where's Sophie?" growled Bunny suspiciously.

"She's through there. I'll get rid of the cage. Just take her, please, just get her away from me!" He was crawling towards them, gasping with delight and gratitude. The guardians eyed each other.

"Take us to her," ordered North. Pitch flinched, but scrambled to his feet and beckoned them to follow. They kept their weapons raised, ready for a trap, as the Nightmare King led them deeper into his lair.

"She's in here," he told them, gesturing to a door. He sighed when he saw their expressions, and nervously pushed the door open.

The guardians were confused. What could possibly have happened to get Pitch into this state? Was he scared of what they would do to him for having kidnapped her? If so, he shouldn't have kidnapped her in the first place. Bunny pushed Pitch into the room, and quickly hopped in after. The sight before him made the Pooka freeze.

"Bunny!" grinned Sophie. She was reclining on an armchair, a tattered old copy of 'Dracula' in her hands. Next to her sat a plate of sliced apple and a tall glass of ice water. "I knew you'd come!"

The guardians could only stare in shock as Pitch desperately disintegrated the cage before turning on his heels and fleeing. The blonde teenager bounced over, wrapping Bunny in a big hug. Bunny grinned.

"What did you do to him?" asked the Pooka. Sophie laughed.

"I just acted like a stereotypical teenager; I whined, I complained, I was snarky and cynical. It was actually kinda fun."

As they walked to the exit they passed Pitch, whose face was buried in his hands.

"They used to be so meek," he was muttering, rocking back and forth, "they used to be so mild. Little girls were polite, they were gentle, children didn't speak unless spoken to-"

"Bye, Boogerman!" laughed Sophie, and Pitch flinched. Bunny smirked.

"Come on, ankle biter. Let's get you home.

* * *

**I really wanted to do this one, but I don't think I did it justice.**


	4. Things had been different, once

**Wow! So many reviews and likes and favourites! I'm flattered! Thank you to everyone for all your support, and if anyone has any ideas that they want to see in text, just message me :)**

**Also, I'm sorry that this took so long to update, I discovered the hard way that this website is blocked at my boarding school :'( Because of this, I will only be able to update at weekends. I'm sorry :(**

* * *

All the other kids called her strange, but she had never bothered with the other kids much, even before. Now that she barely even spoke to her own mother, she couldn't be expected to care about what near-strangers said behind her back. Dimly she remembered these were kids she once called friends. A lot of things had been different, once.

Mathew was crying. He was three years old, but he still cried a lot. She thought he could somehow sense the sorrow that filled the little house. Their parents were out, and she didn't move from her seat on the windowsill. She watched him cry, and she cried with him.

Outside it was raining. The wind whistled past, screaming as it tore through the dead leaves. Fall was coming to a close. Winter was tightening its icy fingers around their necks. She hated winter. It was a time of death.

She had never been outgoing. When all the village kids sat around campfires in the summer telling stories, she was content to just sit and listen. Some people said she was being overshadowed, but she was shy. She had always been shy. It hadn't mattered before. A lot of things had been different, once.

As the sun set behind the clouds, outside got even darker than before. She knew she should move, light the stubby candles from last night or find the new ones in the drawer. She didn't though; in some ways, the darkness was comforting. In it, she couldn't see the truth.

Hours passed, and Mathew eventually cried himself to sleep, curling up on the chair with his face tear-stained and dirty. A part of her said she should put him to bed. A part of her reminded her that that's what would have been done before. A lot of things had been different, once.

She shivered slightly. It was cold, leaning up against the window. Rain trickled down, and she watched the patterns, fascinated. Why did the drops twist the way they did. Why did some drops not trickle at all, while others shot down as though they were being attacked? The rain got heavier, and the window became a screen of water, like a waterfall.

Beyond it she saw a fork of lightning snake towards the earth. She held her breath and started counting. _One Mississippi, Two Mississippi_. She was at eight Mississippi when the thunder rolled over the house, drowning her in noise. She still found it comforting to count how many miles. It had been a game she played when she was little, to help her forget that she was afraid of storms. She used to like games. A lot of things had been different, once.

The thunder woke Mathew up and he began to cry again. He looked scared, shouting for their Ma. He didn't shout for her. She dimly wondered if he knew she had a sister. Pursing her lips, she looked away. Probably not; she never spoke to him or smiled at him, and he never looked at her.

The door swung open and in walked their Ma, rain dripping from her hair and trickling down her face. There was more grey in that hair than before, more wrinkles on that face. Their Ma didn't even look at her as she went to comfort Mathew.

She wondered if she was going invisible. When she left the house people on the street averted their gaze. Idle chatter froze as she approached. Her parents looked straight through her, and her little brother didn't know she existed. She missed the days of before. Before, she had meant the world to someone. She had been adored, and she adored back. Things had been different, once.

Somewhere, deep inside, she was disappointed in herself. She knew she could do better, that she should do better. She could tell Mathew stories, help him with nightmares and teach him to count during storms. She could help her Ma with the housework and her Pa with the flock. She could ask the reverend to teach her to read. She could do better.

_I will do better_ she decided. But not now. Now the nights were getting longer while the days were getting colder. Now they had to ration their food and spend any spare money on coal for the fire. She dimly remembered a time when she found winter fun. Things had been different, once.

She glanced back over to Mathew, who was now happily cooing in their mother's arms. He had the Overland hair and the Overland eyes. As she watched him laugh, she realised he had the Overland smile. She had lost one brother, but now she had another. He could never fill the space where Jack had once been, but perhaps she could make him a new space.

Overhead the thunder boomed. She sighed, turning away again. Come spring, things would be different. Now, though, she had to focus on getting through winter.

* * *

**I was interested in thinking about how Emma would handle her brother's death, and I ended up with this. I think that after his death, Emma would shut in to herself for a while, maybe even get depressed, because Jack had always been the one to cheer her up.**** Just a bit of headcanon, though, you may disagree.  
**


	5. Christmas and a winter child

**Hey everyone! This was just a little something I've had floating around in my head, so I thought I'd put it down to see what you think of it :) If I have time, I may even upload two today!**

* * *

North was stressed. No, that wasn't a good way to describe it. What was stronger than stressed? On the verge of a mental break down. Yes, that was it. He was on the verge of a mental break down.

It was always bad, this time of year. In the month leading up to Christmas, the guardians knew not to talk to him unless someone's life was in danger, but this... this was the worst he could remember it being.

And it was all because of those damned elves.

"MOVE!" he bellowed, aiming a kick at one and deliberately missing- he was mad, not vengeful. It was the winter solstice, and three of them had just knocked over a stack of shipping containers, smashing 500 china dolls to pieces. They were now frantically trying to sweep up the mess that they'd made as one of the yetis wept over his creations. North grabbed his shoulder. "Is no use crying over spilt milk; just try and make me more. PHIL!" he suddenly roared, and his yeti head of security jogged up. "Find someone to help with china dolls!" Phil garbled something about the moon in the globe room, and North sighed.

"What is it?" he called, stomping into the globe room. Two moonbeams shone down, one alighting on a small carved figure of a pagan spirit and the other onto somewhere in Northern America. North paused, realisation setting in. "A new spirit?" His belly told him he was right, and he frowned. Even though he had never been officially appointed as leader of the guardians, it didn't stop MiM from delegating all leadership like tasks to him. One of these was greeting new spirits and explaining the basic ground rules to them.

"Why now?" North groaned, rubbing his face with his hand. MiM shone brighter and he groaned again. "I know, I know. But not right now, okay? In case you cannot see, I am very busy." He sighed, looking at the pandemonium that was the run up to Christmas. "I will go after Christmas is finished; he can survive a few days by himself."

* * *

Jack was flying through the night, a wide grin on his face, thinking of the delight of the children upon waking up to a white Christmas. Suddenly the sound of sleigh bells caught his ears.

"St Nick?" he muttered to himself, heart jumping. Known as North to the other immortals, the great Russian was probably as revered as they came, and Jack had been wanting to meet him for a while now. The sleigh flew overhead, and Jack shot after it.

"Hey!" he shouted, drawing level and waving to its occupant. The large man gave a shout of surprise to see the child floating there. "Are you North?"

North recovered and readjusted his large furry hat on top of his head, eyeing the pale youth before him. The boy had pure white hair, ice blue eyes and alabaster skin. He rode the air currents as easily as if he were one of North's own reindeers, and the guardian wondered where he had come from.

"Yes. Who are you?"

"I'm Jack Frost," grinned Jack. "I live nearby. Is it true you live at the North Pole? Are you delivering presents? How do you eat all the cookies and milk that's laid out for you, or do you just hide them in your sack? Does that give you, like, a year's supply? Can you-"

"I must go," North called, cutting the teen off midsentence. The boy looked crushed, and the guardian of wonder felt guilty. "We can talk some other time. When is not Christmas, yes?" Jack's eyes brightened again at the offer.

"Yeah, okay. I'll leave you to it." He dropped back and watched the sleigh disappear, his smile one of pure excitement. He was going to talk to Nicholas St North. He had just met Santa Clause!

* * *

North collapsed into his armchair, exhausted: the annual post-Christmas party, hosted by the elves, had lasted several hours, and he had the sneaking suspicion that one of the yetis had spiked the eggnog with something stronger. Now, though, in this moment of calm, his mind flitted back to the gangly youth that had been cruising along with enviable grace.

Jack Frost. North rolled the name around his mouth, trying to place it. Obviously an immortal, a winter sprite by the looks of it. Not very old when made an immortal- perhaps sixteen, unless he was just small for his age. Odd though. North knew every immortal. It was his job, as the unofficial leader of the guardians, to greet any new immortals and to make sure they understand the ground rules. He had done it with each and every new immortal since-

Oh.

His memory flashed back to the winter solstice, about five years before. A new spirit had been born, but in the chaos that was the run up to Christmas he had completely forgotten. He was pretty sure he had never thought of it again.

Still, the boy seemed to be managing just fine. Yes, he obviously had some questions, but those were to do with North himself, rather than the whole immortal thing. Guilt appeased, North briefly wondered if the boy had found another immortal to show him the ropes. It seemed likely enough- there were more immortals out there than a normal human might expect.

The guardian of wonder would just have to make sure to find the child sometime in the next few weeks and have a proper chat with him, just to make sure.

Not right now, though. Now, North needed to sleep and recuperate. It had been a hectic Christmas. It always was.


	6. The Room of Views

**Hello! After a long week of waiting, I have decided to reward all you lovely people with my longest chapter yet! It's more than 300 words, and it's got some Bunny/Jack angst, because I'm a sucker for Bunny/Jack angst.**

**Mint Ink: I don't see why not! Do you have anything specific in mind, or is it an open ended request?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians**

* * *

Bunny crept through the Tooth Palace, careful to stick to the shadows. It wasn't that he wasn't allowed to visit: on the contrary, he was more than welcome to stop by any time he wanted. However, he was currently doing something he wasn't exactly allowed to be doing, and if one of the little fairies saw him then Tooth would know he was there within minutes. That couldn't happen.

The Tooth Palace contained many secrets, most known only to Tooth and he fairies. However, Bunny could still remember one Christmas party, sometime in the early 1800s, before she had realised the yetis always spiked the eggnog. Bunny had found her flat on her back, giggling to herself over nonsense. He was carrying her to one of North's spare rooms when she started talking about the Tooth palace and the Room of Views.

Despite what its name sounded like, the Room of Views was not located at the top of the towers with large windows and a panoramic outlook into the lie of the surrounding land. It was actually rather small, and deep in the heart of the Tooth Palace. During conflict it could be used to show someone another's point of view, by remembering things through their eyes. However, it hadn't been used since the dark ages.

Bunny had a use for it, though. A thought that had been nagging at the back of his mind, slowly getting louder and louder until he had to know, had to see from Jack's point of view: what had been going through Jack's mind on Easter Sunday of 1968?

Bunny knew the winter spirit better now. He knew he wasn't malicious, nor the vengeful type. So why had he let loose a blizzard large enough to cover the twenty northernmost states in a good three feet of snow on Bunny's one important day of the year?

Despite years without use, the door swung open soundlessly. With one last glance around to make sure he wasn't seen, the Pooka slipped inside.

The Room of Views was small, and rather dark. Sunlight streamed in through just one dusty window, illuminating the particles in the air. Stood on the centre of the room was a pedestal, with a green moon crystal like the one at Santoff Clausen perched on top of it. Bunny walked over and cleared his throat nervously; he wasn't really too sure what to do.

"Uh... Blizzard of '68, Easter Sunday," he muttered, feeling foolish. The crystal glowed gold, and suddenly the guardian of hope was enveloped by a blinding light. He had a split second to wonder if he'd made a grievous mistake- surely he could have just _asked _Jack- before he found himself in a particular scene. With a sudden jolt he realised he wouldn't just be seeing Jack's point of view.

* * *

Bunny's point of view:

Three months! That was all he had. After all, he was dealing with perishables! Three months of non-stop work, dedication and stress, and for what? Bunny emerged from his tunnels to find that that little upstart, Jack Frost, had snowed over all of Canada, as well as covering the twenty northernmost US states in a good three feet of snow! Aside from Europe, Northern America had the majority of his believers! Did the brat want him to disappear entirely?

The streets were deserted. The only people out were the snow ploughs attempting to clear the roads, and one sad old man pasting 'cancelled' stickers over the signs for the community Easter egg hunt. The googies clustered around his legs shivered mournfully as he sighed deeply, watching sadly from his vantage point on top of a nearby hill.

"Might as well head back to the tunnels. Go to Australia, or somewhere in Europe. Easter is cancelled here," he told the little eggs.

For a minute or two the Pooka just sat there, stewing in his own negative emotions. Easter was ruined. A lot of the children that stopped believing today would never start again. Maybe if he asked Tooth, she could help, but it would really only be damage control. He shook his head and sighed again. It would probably take a whole generation for him to make up his losses.

He tapped the ground and opened a tunnel, sending the googies back to the warren. He was just about to follow when a flash of movement caught his eye.

A head of snowy white hair peeked out from behind one of the trees, followed by a thin body in a dark blue hoodie. Jack Frost slouched over, leaning heavily on his staff. Cocky little... Bunny focused on controlling his breathing.

"Hey, Bunny," the kid smiled. Bunny glared back, seething. "Um... happy Easter?"

There were things that guardians weren't meant to do. They weren't meant to show themselves to children on purpose. They weren't supposed to mess with each others' believers. They weren't meant to give the elves candy canes.

And, though it had never been said aloud before, Bunny was pretty sure they weren't meant to beat up other immortals, with the exception being Pitch.

But by the time the red haze cleared and he was once again capable of rational thought, it was too late. The worst thing was, he didn't even feel guilty. The brat lay curled up on the ground, groaning softly. But, the Pooka rationalized later, it hadn't really been a beating, not really. Bunny landed a couple of blows, and kicked the winter spirit once. Jack hadn't bothered defending himself. Probably too worn out from wrecking Bunny's holiday.

"Don't you ever mess with Easter again," he hissed. Frost didn't reply, and with a final glare the guardian of Hope headed back to the tunnels to lick his wounds and fume some more. Perhaps he would find someone to complain to...

* * *

North's Point of view:

He hadn't expected to see Bunny that day. Normally, the Pooka would sleep for a week solid before venturing out after Easter. Then again, Easter didn't normally come early enough to be covered in snow.

"Are you sure it was him?"

"Am I-?! Of course I'm bloody sure! He's the spirit of winter! And he came by to laugh at me afterwards!"

"To laugh? But you did not take this, of course."

"Of course I didn't take it."

"You did not hurt him I hope."

"I didn't hurt him; I just made sure he wouldn't be messing with Easter any time soon."

North was concerned. On the rare occasion that he did meet the winter spirit, Jack Frost had seemed good natured enough. Bunny was always ready to gripe about him, but the Pooka hated the cold, and Jack Frost by extension. However, there was no mistaking the lights on the globe- a lot of them had gone out that day.

"I will talk to him," sighed the Russian. Bunny shrugged.

"I wouldn't bother, mate; he won't do it again, and should we really be giving him attention for doing something wrong? You wouldn't give a kid candy if he broke a lamp, would you?"

"I suppose not." At that moment, on the other side of the workshop, there was a loud bang, followed by the shouting of a yeti. North sighed again. "I should go see to that. Happy Easter, Bunny." Bunny snorted.

"I wish. See ya 'round." And with that, he was gone.

* * *

Gaia's point of view:

"Stupid boy," she muttered tersely, eyeing the chaos that was Northern America that particular Easter Sunday. "Stupid, stupid boy."

Gaia went by many names, but the most common one now seemed to be 'Mother Nature.' She supposed she could live with it, although if she felt anything towards the nature spirits then it was most certainly not motherly love. She was brusque and distant, uninterested in their petty squabbling and focused on 'the big picture.' She played favourites, and she openly disliked Jack Frost.

So when she found him curled up in a snow bank, groaning softly, she was unsympathetic. She ignored the bruises across his face, and the blood flecks on the other pristine white that surrounded him. The fact that he flinched when he saw her was none of her concern.

"You may have gathered this- although, if you're as thick as you look, perhaps not- but that was not something you should have done," she snapped. He stared up at her blearily, eyes struggling to focus. "You hurt yourself, you anger others, and, worst of all, you mess with the natural order of things. Try this again and there will be repercussions." With that, she flitted away again, mind already working out how this would affect the natural order. Honestly, had no one else heard of the butterfly effect?

Stupid, stupid boy.

* * *

The Groundhog's point of view:

Oh, this was too good. Oh, no, seriously, this was just too good! He hadn't believed the winter spirit when he said what he would do, but here he was! Snow stretched out around him, blanketing the ground, and children miserably trailed back from failed Easter hunts, their baskets empty. It was a brilliant sight!

Not that he was Pitch Black or anything: his joy wasn't derived from the kids' misery. No, it came from the fact that Bunnymund's precious holiday was ruined. That stupid rabbit's head had gotten too big, and the groundhog was glad that someone had shown him he wasn't all he thought himself to be. He grinned, laughing up at the moon.

"Thanks for never explaining anything to the brat!" he yelled. "I haven't been this happy in years! Hey, next year, send a rain spirit: I'd like to see North steer that sleigh of his through thunder and lightning!"

Perhaps next year he'd even be nice to the boy. Maybe he could convince the idiot to snow out the Tooth Fairy's palace.

* * *

Jack's point of view:

"You've got another six weeks," the Groundhog muttered, consulting the carefully drawn up charts that Gaia had sent him. "And-ooh- there's going to be a blizzard the night before Easter."

"Why?"

"Something called eutrophication? I don't know, but it looks like you'll be killing a load of duckweed up north or something like that. Have fun."

"But why does it have to be the night before Easter?" Jack was worried: he'd seen how protective the Pooka got over his holiday, and the last time it had snowed on Easter Jack had gotten a very good verbal thrashing. More importantly, if it snowed on Easter then the kids might not be allowed out, and he didn't want that. He hated seeing the sadness in their eyes and knowing that it was his fault.

"Easter's coming early this year, and you can't do it before then due to hibernating animals or something like that." The groundhog squinted at the strange symbolic language Gaia always wrote her notes in. "Look, kid, I'm bad at giving reasons, so just go away, make it snow, do your thing, and don't bother me until next year. Buh-bye now."

"No."

"What?" Jack folded his arms across his chin and squared his jaw.

"I said no: I'm not going to make it snow on Easter."

"It's half a foot in Canada and half a dozen states. If you're worried about that stupid rabbit getting his panties in a twist, don't be- the idiot's got enough believers to power Colorado."

"I'm not doing it for him. I'm doing it for the kids." The groundhog stared at him for a moment, then rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. It's your season. Just have fun explaining it to Gaia afterwards. Now go away, I have work to do."

Jack flew back to his lake in Burgess, already trying to decide how to go about what he'd decided to do. As a seasonal spirit, he could feel where he was needed and where he wasn't. Though he was fairly free to do his own thing, there were certain limits. Bad things had happened in the past when he'd made it snow in the summer, but this was different. Like the groundhog said, it was his season. He would just make it snow the day after Easter. Easy.

Good Friday arrived and Jack knew he needed to drop the temperature. Canada needed a touch up on the snow front, and his gut was telling him to go frost over Maine. He ignored it all, and spent the day ice skating. He felt fine.

Saturday morning arrived and the back of his neck felt hot. North Dakota had just had a thunder storm, and all the puddles needed to be frozen over. Over in Russia, the snow was beginning to melt, even though it wasn't supposed to for another two weeks. He could feel the frozen rivers of Norway and Sweden beginning to thaw, while Greenland was practically suffering from a heat wave. His skin prickled uncomfortably. He spent the morning decorating the top of the pond with intricate hoarfrost.

By Saturday afternoon sweat was trickling down his forehead and his breaths were becoming raspy. It wasn't often that Gaia ordered for particular weather patterns, but when she did everyone always followed through. He could see why: normally, neglecting weather related duties resulted in uneasiness and mild discomfort, perhaps a slight nausea. This was far worse. His stomach twisted and clenched, his ears kept popping for no reason at all, and the palms of his hands were itchy. The wind caressed his hair, telling him to make the storm and be done, that annoying Bunny would be better than going against Gaia. He ignored it, and spent the afternoon practising balancing tricks with his staff.

By Saturday evening he could do a one handed handstand on top of his staff on top of the ice. His legs felt like they were on fire, and his skin was turning red. His eyes stung and his lips were chapped. The wind howled around him, begging him to just make the storm and be done with it. Jack, however, was stubborn. He could feel the power building up inside him, so he leaned the staff against a tree and then went and sat on the opposite side of the lake. The staff was his conduit: without it, no matter how much it hurt, he was as good as powerless. Grimacing, the winter spirit leaned against a tree and decided to try and sleep.

Midnight arrived, and Jack awoke to a pain deep inside him. It was unlike any other physical pain he'd felt in the past. With a scream, he leapt to his feet, the wind screaming alongside him in fear for of its little winter spirit. The pain raced down his arms, and Jack suddenly realised his hands were glowing. It was the pain of raw power, looking for any way to get out, and he suddenly knew he needed his staff **right now.**

He looked around wildly, finally catching sight of where it had blown into a tree. With another anguished cry, he raced towards it. The power was burning him, burning his insides, and he knew that once it was out he wouldn't be able to control it. He had to get to his staff, he had to, but even as he ran he knew it was too late. He was still a good ten metres away when the power exploded.

It ripped open his finger tips and poured out, accompanied by a wild keening that Jack was shocked to realize was his own voice. A blinding blue light engulfed him and he floated up, untouched by the frantic wind, all the while howling in agonized pain. Dark clouds spun away from him, blocking out the comforting gleam of the moon and the stars. Snow and ice whirled through the air, tearing at his skin. Somewhere, deep inside himself, he was aware of what was happening, and watched in horror and sadness.

The storm lasted for hours, but eventually his powers petered out and he was unceremoniously dumped into a snow drift. Blood streamed from the open wounds in his fingers, and he was absolutely exhausted, but only one thought crossed his mind; _I ruined Easter._

Jack crawled to his feet and searched for his staff, needing the comfort it provided, the control it brought. Once it was back in his hands, he looked around and took a deep breath. _Come on, Jack. It's the right thing to do. Go and explain. He'll be upset, but once he knows he won't blame you._

"Wind," murmured the winter spirit, voice shaky, "tale me to Bunnymund."

* * *

The Pooka looked heartbroken, and Jack felt his stomach drop at the distraught expression on Bunny's face. The winter spirit could feel the extent of his damage and guilt enveloped him in a wave. Or was that exhaustion? Moon only knew he was feeling enough of both. _He'll feel better once you've explained. You both will. _Jack hobbled out of the trees towards the guardian of hope. His fingertips were still bleeding, and he couldn't feel his legs. He didn't even have the energy to stand up straight.

"Hey, Bunny." Jack smiled, but the look of complete and utter hate that greeted him shocked him to the core. _Talk to him, Jack! Make it better._ "Um... happy Easter?"

Bunny's eyes clouded with anger, and in that moment Jack knew he was going to be able to explain. He tried to take a step back, but his wearied limbs failed him. His staff was slick with blood, and his grip on it was tenuous at best. He didn't have a hope of blocking the flurry of blows that smashed into him. With a gasp of pain, he collapsed. One large foot connected with his ribs, and a voice above him hissed with contempt

"Don't you ever mess with Easter again."

Jack didn't have the strength to leave the snow drift that Bunny had left him in. When Gaia found him a few hours later, he'd struggled to follow her words. When she left he sat up weakly.

"Wind," he croaked, tears streaming down his face. "Take me home."

* * *

Bunny stared at the crystal in horror. He hadn't realized how real it would feel. It had been like he was North, like he was Jack. The pain...

With a shudder the Pooka opened one of his tunnels and headed back to the warren. He had a lot to think about.

* * *

**I may write a follow up of this, depending on your reaction, of Bunny processing what he saw and perhaps talking to Jack about it. Not my most cheerful work, I know, but I'm planning a prank chapter for tomorrow so hopefully that'll make you feel better.**

**Please review and say what you thought!**

**:)**


	7. Sandy's prank

**Wow! So much feedback! Okay, I will do a follow up to 'The Room of Views!' Thank you all for all your lovely reviews! Since tomorrow is a bank holiday, I will be able to post another chapter! YAY!**

**darkangel795: Of course I can! In fact, I've thought of quite a good one for it (at least, it sounds good in my head!)**

**So, me and a friend were joking around, and somehow this was born! (Yes, Fru, I'm talking about you. Reveal yourself!) It's set in the year that follows Pitch first becoming a guardian, before Jack has had the chance to do anything to North.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own RotG**

* * *

It had started with Jack freezing Bunny's hot chocolate.

They were in one of the monthly guardian meetings, and North was going on about the cost of wood and other materials required to make toys. He didn't actually buy anything himself, the yetis somehow created it, but that was beside the point. Unfortunately, none of the guardians knew what the point to his long rant _was_. For the past quarter hour they had slowly been drooping lower and lower in their chairs, until North was cut off mid sentence by a startled-

"Oy!" Bunny stared down incredulously at the lump of cocoa flavoured ice now sitting in his mug. Jack laughed and the Pooka glared at him. "You think that's funny, do ya?" The winter spirit's laughter turned to a yelp as he scrambled to get away. "Sorry Sandy!" The little golden man looked disgruntled, and ignored the Pooka's proffered hand, choosing instead to shoot a ball of dream sand and numb the left side of Bunny's body.

"Nice one Sandy!" laughed Jack, before quickly having to dodge another ball of dream sand that sent Tooth spinning to the floor. In return he froze Sandy's feet to the ground. The guardian of dreams struggled to escape, and Bunny took the opportunity to snatch Jack by the back of his hoodie and tickle him mercilessly. Eventually the winter spirit managed to wriggle out of the furry paw that was pinning him down, taking refuge on one of the roof beams.

"I might just snow out your warrens for that one!" Jack called down, laughing at the enraged look on Bunny's face.

"If you dare! Why don't you annoy somebody else for a change? I never see ya pranking North!"

"You think I haven't tried?" asked Jack, rolling his eyes at the other's stupidity. "I can't get past the yetis!" North laughed.

"Indeed!" he agreed, "there has never been prank played at Santoff Clausen, and there never will be. My security is too good! No one can get past the yetis! Now, let us get back to meeting."

Unnoticed by the others, Sandy smirked to himself. Never been a prank? He would just have to remedy that.

* * *

He waited until the next January, just because he didn't want to bother North in the run up to Christmas. However, once the presents had been delivered and the large Russian had been given enough time to recover from the annual party hosted by the yetis, it was all systems go.

As evening fell, Sandy sent a golden haze of dream sand over the complex of Santoff Clausen. He could take one night off from work, especially with Pitch so recently defeated, and this would take a whole night to do. Smirking to himself, the diminutive man floated through a window and got to work. No one can get past the yetis, hm?

He finished just as the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. Santoff Clausen was bewitched so that, unlike the rest of the pole, it would have daily sunrises and sunsets. Apparently six months of darkness wasn't too good for wonder. The guardian of dreams had to hand it to himself: he doubted even Dale, the spirit of April Fool's could have thought of this. Taking one last glance at his handiwork, Sandy activated the emergency aurora and then flew off. North was beginning to stir, and the other guardians would arrive soon; he didn't want to be caught at the scene of the crime.

* * *

"JACK!" The roar echoed through the Pole, followed by several thuds and crashes. Tooth winced as she watched the newest guardian barely dodge an extremely well thrown teapot.

"I'm telling you, it wasn't me!" The winter spirit cried desperately. "You know I can't get past the yetis!"

"This time you did not need to get PAST them!"

The guardian of memories was having a hard time keeping a straight face. Bunnymund had given up entirely and was shaking with laughter, while Sandy rolled along the floor, golden tears streaming down his face. It was a very, very funny prank.

At that moment Phil burst through the door, shouting angrily in yetish. At the sight of him, Tooth lost it, and Jack dropped his staff he was laughing so hard. The great beast marched over to the winter spirit and shook him, crying what Tooth could only imagine were threats. The idea of Phil trying to be threatening in his state made her laugh all the harder, and even North had a twinkle in his eye beneath the angry façade.

"Hey, mate!" wheezed Bunny, gasping for air. "Don't you have night patrols to avoid this kind of thing?" Phil garbled something unintelligible and they looked at North, who shrugged, his temper seeming to have cooled a bit.

"He says they all fell asleep..." The Cossack trailed off, a spark of understanding lighting his face. "Sandy?"

Sandy froze and stared up at them. They were all staring down at him incredulously. He smiled sheepishly and gave a little wave, before flying off as fast as he could, Phil's furious shouts echoing behind him. The last thing he heard was Jack's cry of 'I told you it wasn't me!'

As he flew, he slipped the little electric shaver out of his robes. There may have been a lot of yetis, but he was nothing if not efficient. The guardian of dreams chuckled to himself, wondering how long it would take all their fur to grow back.


	8. Jack's Room

**Hello all! Today is a bank holiday over here in England, so I'm at home and able to update! YAY! I'd be a lot happier if it wasn't for the fact that I've got some kind of bug that is enough to make me feel terrible, but not enough to keep me from school :( Talk about a lose/lose situation!**

**So, I decided to write something nice about Jack and North, and ended up with possibly the fluffiest thing I've ever written. Yikes.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own RotG**

* * *

Jack had been around for a long time- three hundred years that he knew about, and then another sixteen when he got his memories back. He knew it had been different during his mortal life, but since becoming the spirit of winter he'd only ever had three possessions: his clothes, his staff and his name.

So when North led him up to one of the larger guest rooms in Santoff Clausen and proudly declared it Jack's, he'd been a little overwhelmed. It was a very bare room, with plain white walls, an empty bookshelf, a desk and a large bed, but to Jack it was incredible. He had his own room! He had his own _bed!_

"I left it bare so you can decorate yourself," said North, smiling at the wonder and joy that shone in the boy's eyes. "Do you like it?" This was said with a note of nervousness. It had only been a few weeks since the defeat of Pitch, and Jack was still flighty. His prolonged isolation had left him nervous uncomfortable with interactions, while the fact that he was still essentially a stranger made it difficult for them to get him to open up.

But the small head of snowy blond hair nodded emphatically, and North relaxed. He didn't expect more, not yet at least.

"Good!" cried the Cossack. "You should move in as soon as possible! Make it your own! Decorate! Fill with your stuff! I can send sleigh to pick up possessions from Burgess! Let us make your room yours!" North was getting more and more excited, and Jack shifted uncomfortably, not quite sure how to break it to the old man. As if noticing the smaller guardian's unease, North paused. "You will move stuff from lake to here, da?" He asked more gently. Deciding that actions speak louder than words, Jack nodded, and then leaned his staff against the wall.

"Done," he muttered quietly. North stared in confusion before the implication of this set in. For a moment the guardian of wonder didn't know what to do, but then he pulled his newer counterpart into a gentle hug. He felt Jack tense in surprise, and wriggle a little as though trying to get away, before relaxing and hugging the old man back.

"It's alright," the Russian murmured softly. "We will get you more possessions." He pulled away and regarded Jack, a wide grin stretching across his face. "After all: I _am_ Santa Clause." Jack smiled back, and they headed downstairs to get some hot chocolate. Within half an hour the winter spirit was gone, citing the need to bury Toronto. North watched him go fondly, knowing the boy wanted his space. However, when Jack returned that evening and went to sleep in his bedroom, he didn't think he could have felt happier.

* * *

Baby Tooth and the other little fairies gave Jack a painting they had done for him during their free time. It took pride of place above his bed.

Tooth herself gave him an exotic Indian rug, which lay next to his bed, as well as several dentistry journals and his own toothbrush- "WHAT! You've NEVER brushed your teeth?!"

Bunny gave Jack a map of Australia, and a fuzzy wombat soft toy- "because if I'm a kangaroo, then you're a wombat,"- as well as several googies that Jack had painted himself.

Sandy gave Jack several books on the psychology of dreams, as well as some copies of surrealist paintings like those for Salvadore Dali- "Are you trying to use surrealism or are your symbols just more cryptic than usual? Because I honestly have no idea what you're trying to say."

Jamie gave him posters for bands with names like 'The Rolling Stones' and 'Queen,' as well as all their albums- "Seriously? You haven't heard of the Rolling Stones? Oh. My. God."

North gave jack a large red nutcracker, and a pair of roller-skates- "so you can have fun _without_ freezing up workshop"- and a wall mounted TV, as well as quite a few fiction books (most of them fantasy/adventure).

Sophie gave him a lopsided doll she'd made in arts class. The doll had long white hair and a dark blue dress- "Jack a princess! Jack a princess!"- and he'd determinedly kept it hidden from Bunny.

Jack himself managed to beg some paint off Bunny, as well as a sketchbook and some colouring pencils- "Only if you promise, no messing with Easter for the next four years!"- and spent every summer for the next two years sitting in his room and carefully painting. He promised them he'd show what he'd been painting when it was finished, and now he led them all up.

"So, yeah," he mumbled nervously. "Here it is!"

"WOW, Jack!" exclaimed Tooth, darting everywhere to see everything. North smiled proudly, Sandy gave him a thumbs up, and even Bunny looked impressed.

"Not bad, mate. Not bad at all."

Painted on every inch of wall, in shades of the most delicate ice blue, were swirling snowflakes. Like their real life counterparts each was unique, and they were absolutely tiny- no bigger than the nail of a child's pinkie finger.

Jack's cheeks blushed pink at the attention, and he shuffled his feet, looking embarrassed. Sandy rolled his eyes and floated over to the winter spirit, giving Jack a massive hug. Tooth and North quickly joined, and the golden man pulled a gruff Bunnymund in too. Jack didn't think he could be happier.

* * *

"Thank you, North." The old man started- he thought Jack had nodded off in the chair more than an hour. Instead, the winter spirit was staring at the ceiling, a contented smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "For everything you've given me."

"It was not just me," smiled the old Cossack, heart warming. "Sandy gave you paintings, and Jamie gave you music, and-"

"And you gave me a room," Jack cut him off. "You gave me a home. And when I feel upset, or alone, I can remember that you gave me the most important thing of all."

Jack rolled over on the couch, and North could see a dreaminess begin to cloud his eyes. The warmth of the fire, the cosiness of the room and the soft cushions of the couch were serving to make the youngest guardian very drowsy.

"What's that?" asked North, knowing a fully awake Jack would never feel so comfortable talking about his feelings.

"A family," sighed the child sleepily, and then he was gone. Dreams of snowflakes and wild sled rides appeared above his head as North gently carried him up to his room.

"We are family," he agreed softly, tucking Jack into bed next to the fuzzy wombat. "Never forget that." He kissed the boy's forehead and slipped back out again, the warm fire of contentment blazing happily within him.


	9. And then there was one

**Hello again! This is what happens when I'm attacked by midnight plot bunnies. I'm not too happy with this, but I don't have anything else to give you, and I know how into your angst some of you are.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians (sobs)**

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"Tragic, really."

It was a word often used about the Overland family. They certainly seemed to have a run of bad luck. If it were anyone else, it might be said that they'd invoked God's wrath, that they'd been consorting with demons, or that they had angered a witch. If it were anyone else, it might have been said that they deserved it.

But not the Overlands.

When neighbours were sick, they were cared for, with strong broth and warm blankets. If a beggar came to the door, they would give him shelter for the night. Flowers grew in the front garden; vegetables grew in the back. Cakes were baked for those who suffered from misfortune. Community events were always carefully organized, beautifully decorated, and completely enjoyable affairs.

In return for their many kindnesses, their house burnt down. Their entire flock was lost to a particularly bad snowstorm. Every time a disease went around, one of the Overlands was sure to get it. Small accidents. Large accidents. Things that might have seemed like acts of malice, if they had happened to anyone else.

But worst of all was what happened to their children. If life had been different and the gods had been kind, the Overlands would have had six beautiful children with shining brown eyes.

It had started with Henry, who might have been Henrietta. Those were the names picked out for the child when Mrs Overland had been pregnant with her first; twenty years old and only married for a year. However, the child was a still born. Mrs Overland wept.

Then came Ruth, named from the bible. Ruth was beautiful, everybody said so, and so calm and collected too. When Ruth was seven, she became ill from smallpox. It took less than a week to steal her from them.

Jack was two when Ruth died, and as he grew up he had dim memories of his older sister. The entire village held their breath, and when Jack made it to ten, there was a collective sigh of relief. At least there was one.

After Jack came Mary. Jack was five when Mary was born, and it had been bleak from the outset. She was a small, sickly child, and dreadful weather had destroyed the crop and ruined the harvest. When Mary died, aged three months, no one was surprised.

Two years after Mary came Emma, born with the double fortune of a strong physique and a good harvest. Having an older brother as caring as Jack certainly helped as well. The village marvelled at how the elder brother, known as a trickster and a bit of a nuisance, was so protective of her. She was very lucky, they decided, to have a brother that loved her so much. It was that love which compelled him to give his life for her, and he drowned in an icy lake one cold midwinter's morning.

Unbeknownst to the rest of the village, Mrs Overland was pregnant when Jack died. The stress of his death made her wonder if she would lose the baby, but she made it to term, and Mathew was born. He was healthy enough, though he always seemed to be crying. Aged five, he wandered into the forest and was never seen again. Some said bears got him. Others, wolves. No one ever found out.

Emma Overland was the last, and she was lucky to be alive. Behind closed doors she was known as the girl who had cheated death, but there was a haunting sadness in her eyes. She'd been the death of, not one, but two brothers. There was no doubt in her mind that, if Jack had been alive, Mathew would never have disappeared into those woods.

At first there was a desperate struggle, one which she almost lost. A struggle against the depression, guilt and loneliness that threatened to consume her, a struggle which took years and the death of a second brother to get past. But Emma had had enough, and fought through: she had to get enough out of her life for six.

If life had been different and the gods had been kind, the Overlands would have had six beautiful children with shining brown eyes. First there was some, and then there was none, then one, then two, and one and two again, possibly three, no back to two, and then there was one. Six beautiful children with shining brown eyes, one drowned, one starved, one dead from illness. One of neglect, another never alive to begin with. And then there was one.


	10. Pierre Soleil

**Hello :D**

**I don't really have anything to say, apart from 'I don't own RotG.'**

* * *

"Ow."

Jack rubbed the back of his head and looked around. The autumn forest was silent around him, but the acorn at his feet was proof that someone was there. A wry grin stretched across his face.

"Okay, who threw that?" His only answer was another acorn, this one aimed straight between his eyes. He ducked it this time, and grabbed his staff, walking towards the thicket of trees that the acorn had come from. Pushing back the bushes, he peered in, and caught sight of something burnt onto one of the trees:

**Catch me if you can**

A third acorn whizzed towards him, and Jack avoided it with a chuckle. His icy blue eyes twinkled as he looked around, pretending to be confused.

"So it's a game you want?" he called, wandering in a slow circle around the clearing. "I don't know if I should; I don't even know who you are, after all, and now you want me to... _catch you!"_ He leapt at one of the bushes, but the figure within darted out before he could grab it. "Hey!" he called, jumping into the air after the dark blur.

The two raced through the forest, Jack's laughs and shouts echoing through the trees. The figure he was chasing was fast, Jack would give them that, and it seemed to have its own wind, but Jack was faster. Finally, after a good two hours of Jack steadily gaining, the figure had to swerve to avoid a branch, giving the winter spirit the opportunity to tackle whoever it was. They were both sent sprawling to the ground and Jack sat up with a hiss of pain, rubbing his arms. Where he had touched the mysterious stranger, angry red welts were appearing, and blisters were beginning to form. Glancing at the figure, he saw the same was happening to their legs.

It was a man, perhaps 23 or 24 years old. His skin was dark mahogany, with curly black hair cropped close to his head and eyes like two bottomless pools of warmth, the irises almost as dark as the pupils they surrounded. He was bulkier than Jack, and at least a foot taller, with wine red shorts, a tan brown t-shirt and no shoes. When he grinned his teeth were a blinding white in contrast to his dark skin. Jack grinned back.

"Who are you?" he asked, feeling almost shy. The last time he had spoken to anyone had been an argument with one of the forest nymphs, almost a year before.

"My name is Pierre Soleil," replied the man, "and I am the spirit of summer. Am I right in thinking you are Jack Frost?" Pierre's voice was deep and rich, touched with a slight accent that Jack couldn't quite put his finger on.

"Yeah, that's me," smiled Jack. "I'm the spirit of winter. How do you know who I am?"

"I have heard tell of you from spring and autumn; it would do you well not to antagonize the other elementals, by the way. Messing with the natural order, as Gaia calls it, can and will have serious repercussions." Jack's smile fell as he studied the summer spirit carefully.

"Am I in trouble?" The smile returned as Pierre laughed cheerfully.

"Perhaps with them, but I just wanted to meet you. It's so rare to get new immortals, and I've already waited too long. You've been around, what? Fifty years now?"

"Seventy," Jack corrected. Pierre shook his head.

"Seventy years; wow. You're pretty young still."

"How old are you?"

"I, my dear child, had my 150th birthday just last month."

"Oh." Pierre laughed again, and Jack sort of shrugged, unsure of what else to say. There was a pregnant pause as both spirits just took the time to look at each other. "Your name is French, isn't it?" asked Jack finally. Pierre nodded.

"It means Peter Sun. Gaia is amazing in many respects, but her choice of names is a little... unimaginative."

"Did Gaia name you, then?"

"She didn't name you?" Jack shook his head.

"The moon named me. Right after he pulled me out of the ice. It was the only thing he ever said to me, actually." Pierre paused, confusion furrowing his brow.

"Wait... the moon made you?"

"Yep."

"Odd. I thought Gaia was in charge of all the elementals... That is very strange. He pulled you out of ice?"

"Yep. From a lake right near here. I could show it to you if you want."

"I would love to, but I have remained here long enough." Pierre climbed to his feet, Jack quickly scrambling up after him.

"You're going? Already?"

"I'm afraid so. We spent many hours flying, remember? Besides, there is to be a volcanic explosion soon, and the lava sprites have asked me to help channel the heat."

"When will I see you again?" The summer spirit paused, and took a good long look at his wintry counterpart. _Nothing more than a child, really_ he thought to himself. Jack's eyes were hopeful, scared and upset all at the same time, and Pierre didn't miss the way he was biting his lip.

"I don't know, Jack," he said as gently as possible. "I am summer and you are winter, and our natures dictate we stay away from each other."

"Oh," came the murmured response. The elder hesitated, knowing he should be going, but not wanting to leave the winter child like this.

"However, in times of spring and fall, when neither one of us are really needed, keep an eye out. I may just happen to pass through the same bit of woods that you're playing in." As he hoped, Jack's face brightened, and Pierre breathed a quick sigh of relief.

"One last question, before you leave?"

"Yes?"

"The summer sprites... do they work for you?" If Pierre wondered at the strange question, his face did not show it.

"No, they do not. We all work for Gaia, and when she is not present, we collaborate. I am more powerful than them, but we all work as equals. Does that answer your question?"

"Yeah," smiled Jack. "It does."

"In that case, I must be off. Goodbye, Jack Frost."

"Goodbye."

"Oh, and one more thing: if it comforts you, the moon has never spoken to me." With that, he raised his arms and allowed the South wind to lift him into the sky and carry him off.

As the warm summer current blew through his hair, Jack watched his new... friend? Companion? The winter spirit didn't know what Pierre was to him, but he liked it. He watched the summer spirit disappearing into the distance, one hand absently straying to the old wound on his back.

The summer sprites were awful, but Pierre wasn't like them, and in all likeliness didn't know what they did to Jack. The winter spirit could only hope that he saw Pierre soon. It was nice to have people talking to him when not mad at him.

* * *

**Okay, so a lot of dialogue in this chapter, and my own original character, which I know is enough to make some people froth at the mouth. But hear me out! I just think the fact that Pierre wanted to help Jack and relieve his isolation but couldn't because of their jobs and natures so tragic. You may not agree, it's fine if you don't, but I'm going with it.**


	11. Scavenger

**Hello again! Here we are a week later, and I'm going to have to call it, guys: I'm not really feeling the love. I don't know whether it's because no one actually likes this, or because the last few chapters were terrible, or if none of you can be bothered to review, but I've written you an extra long chapter (2,500 words) and depending on the response I get for this I may or may not continue with the drabble series. So, if you want this to continue, drop me a line. Otherwise... nice writing for you.**

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It took a few days for him to notice it, but once noticed he couldn't seem to un-notice it. At first it was just mild discomfort, but by the end of his first week as an immortal, it was starting to get serious.

Jack tried to work out what it was- this dull ache that made him want to curl up and go to sleep. It seemed to be gnawing at him, demanding _something_ that Jack didn't have. As the second week passed the winter spirit found himself with less and less energy to do fun things like practice icing over windows, or not-so fun things like begging people to see him.

Finally, in his third week of existence, he understood.

It had started with two children walking through the forest, something clutched in their mittened hands. It looked like an older sister and her little brother, or perhaps cousins. Jack wasn't sure, but he watched their easy chatter enviously, wishing that he had someone to chatter with. Suddenly the little boy stumbled, and the thing he was clutching flew into the air.

"No, don't get it," said the older girl as he reached out his hand. "It will be all soggy. You can have the rest of mine." They continued to walk, but Jack hesitated, picking up the something that the little boy had dropped in the snow. It was brown on the outside and white on the inside, crispy in places that hadn't touched the snow. He raised it to his mouth uncertainly, copying what he had seen the children do.

Oh, it was wonderful. It was slightly sweet, and it was crunchy, and it seemed to fill his mouth with _goodness_. Within three bites the rest of the bread was gone, and Jack stared mournfully at his hands, wishing for more.

It was called hunger, he found out, and to appease it he had to eat. However, for an invisible child whose 'home' was a frozen lake in the middle of a forest, this was easier said than done. Jack started following people through the forest, seeing which berries and herbs they picked and following suite. More than once he found himself slumped by the side of his lake, clutching his stomach as he fought fevers and other ills brought on by food poisoning.

But he was a winter spirit, and it was never long before the last of the berries would disappear, covered instead by snow. Bins, however, were there year round, and though food was not thrown away lightly- _especially _in the depths of winter- Jack could usually scavenge enough to keep him alive. A diet of potato peels, bacon rinds and spoiled leftovers may have sounded repulsive to some, but- as Jack often reminded himself- beggars can't be choosers. Pig troughs were also good sources of food, and on more than one occasion the winter spirit found himself slipping into windows and scraping out pots and pans that had been left to soak overnight. Jack didn't understand his relationship with food- he felt sated, it seemed like he had enough, but then two weeks later he was hungry again. It seemed selfish and it seemed needy, and both were emotions the immortal child disliked.

Then the twentieth century rolled round, and with it the Second World War. Once the dust had settled and the rubble was cleared away, the economy exploded in a way Jack had never known before. Billboards advertising fast food restaurants sprung up like bamboo, and supermarkets began to sell foods people had never heard of before, shipped over from exotic countries that were too hot for Jack to visit. Children who had never felt the ache of hunger in their bellies threw away food like no tomorrow, and suddenly Jack was finding it a lot easier to get himself fed.

Uneaten apples discarded because of one bruise. Packaged food cast away because it was 'out of date.' Entire meals worth of side orders at restaurants scraped into the bin because the patron was already full. For a child who had spent a quarter of a century on the cusp of starvation, it was unbelievable, and in the best possible sense.

However, no matter how exotic the fruits or exquisite the meals, how delicious the candy or the chocolate, Jack's favourite remained bread. Perhaps because bread was the first food he ever had, perhaps because it had continued to remain a staple for the entirety of existence, or perhaps he just really liked bread, but the winter spirit couldn't get enough. Entire loaves thrown away because they were stale, fresh bread trashed because the baker had burnt it, crusts discarded just because people didn't like them. Jack found bread in almost every bin he scavenged in, and it was wonderful.

Things didn't change much when he became a guardian. In fact, the only difference was that Jack now had access to a constant supply of cookies and hot chocolate from the North Pole. Bunny wouldn't let the child anywhere near the supply of Easter chocolate, Tooth had a kitchen but never served refreshments like North, and Jack wasn't even sure if Sandy ate. Jamie sometimes shared his sweets, but Jack felt guilty taking them from the child when the Morrison children three streets away threw out what seemed to be an entire candy shop every week.

So Jack continued to scavenge and the others continued to not notice. It never occurred to the winter spirit to mention it to them; it had been a part of his life for so long that he didn't really even see it as anything out of the ordinary, or worth observation. If he had thought about telling them, he probably didn't think they would have cared. To him, it really wasn't a big deal.

To them, it really was.

* * *

It had been about three years since the guardians defeated Pitch, and they were all at the pole for another meeting. Tooth had told them about how a stray cat had somehow managed to get into the Tooth Palace- "Don't even ask me how; last time I checked, cats don't fly,"- while Bunny griped about a new TV show that depicted him as a fluffy pink rabbit.

"Still waiting for cocoa!" North called, and three elves bustled in, balancing a silver tray on their heads. As they each took one, Tooth nudged the others and pointed at the sofa. Curled up on the cushions was their youngest member, a contented smile on his lips.

"He sent a giant blizzard through Lapland earlier," explained the guardian of memories fondly. "I suppose the effort wore him out." The tray bearing elves, however, didn't seem to care how tired Jack was: one way or another he was getting his cocoa.

"Oy!" snapped Bunny, "Don't wake him up." They ignored the Pooka and continued in their attempts, nudging the tray against Jack's sleeping body. "Didn't you hear me?" growled the guardian of hope. "I said get away!" He took a swipe at them and they jumped, upsetting the last mug. The winter spirit started awake with a strangled yelp as the scalding liquid poured onto him, searing his skin. He leapt to his feet and wriggled out of his hoodie, hissing with pain. An angry red burn had already scorched itself onto his pale skin, but that wasn't what caught the others' attentions. They had never seen the child without his signature blue hoodie before, and now they stared in horror.

"Stupid elves," muttered Jack angrily, staring down at the burn. "North, do you have some ice I could borrow? North?" He glanced at them now, and registered their expressions, remembering too late what he had done.

"Don't even think about it," growled Bunny, snatching the hoodie even as the child tried to pull it back on.

"Go fetch some ice," North ordered the tray bearers angrily before turning back to the guardian of fun. "Jack; what happened to you?"

The winter spirit's pale skin was littered with scars that covered his chest and back in a messy randomness that made it resemble some sort of sick modern art painting. His skin was stretched taught over painfully prominent ribs, and the letter 'K' seemed to have been carved into his shoulders. Jack glanced back down at his mutilated torso and shrugged, before smiling at them with a forced nonchalance.

"It depends; what are you asking about?"

"Where did you get THAT!" demanded the Pooka, pointing at the 'K' with barely concealed rage and disgust. Jack visibly flinched at the memory, and opened his mouth to reply when Tooth cut him off.

"No, that's not what important right now," she declared. Bunny stared at her in shock, trying to stutter out a reply, but she ignored him and flew close to Jack, trying not to feel hurt when he shied away. "Jack, when was the last time you ate?" They could see the winter spirit visibly relax, and they relaxed too.

"Just this morning," he told them. "I had half a Chicken Ceaser salad, a roll and some black forest gateau." Bunny smirked bemusedly.

"Where did you get black forest gateau?"

"There's a restaurant in Burgess called Swindon's. They're known for their desserts." Jack paused as the air in the room stilled, and he realised the guardians were once again staring at him, this time with concern and morality written on their faces. "What?"

"Jack," said North heavily, "you should not be stealing, especially now that-"

"Oh, I'm not stealing," Jack cut in quickly, understanding now. "It's all stuff they've already thrown out. I get if from the bins out the back. It's good stuff, definitely the best in Burgess." He paused again. "What?"

"You've been eating," began Tooth, her voice quiet as she tried to keep her emotions in check, "from bins?" The winter spirit nodded cheerfully, and they finally took in just how skinny their youngest member was. His shoulder blades jutted out sharply, his collar bone was raised and his ribcage protruded far over his stomach.

"When was the last time you had a meal?" asked Bunny.

"I told you," Jack grinned, "just this morning." The Pooka shook his head.

"Nah, mate; when was the last time you had a proper meal, with fresh food and... not from bins, I mean."

"Um... our celebratory feast after we defeated Pitch. Can I put my hoodie back on now? Please?"

"No," snapped Tooth.

"Jack," said North gently, "that was three years ago. You haven't eaten _anything_ since then?" Jack stared at him incredulously.

"For the third time, I ate this morning!"

"Dumpster food does not count as food!" screeched Tooth, and Jack was shocked to see her eyes swimming with unshed tears. "Why didn't you tell us?" she continued more gently, her voice cracking at the end. North wrapped a protective arm around her and turned to the winter spirit.

"Why didn't you tell us?" he repeated, and Jack took a step back. Sandy noticed, and took in Jack's defensive posture. The little golden man tried to get the others' attention but, as was per usual, they ignored him, focusing their attention on the guardian of fun. Like a cornered animal, Jack was going on the defensive, and Sandy could see this ending very badly.

"Why should I have? What's the big deal?"

"What's the big deal?!" Bunny let out a loud, fake guffaw before rounding on the immortal child. "You, mate, have been eating out of bins. That's a big deal."

"Jack," Tooth flew forward, and he took another step back, "why would you... don't you know how bad..." Nervous sobs wracked her body, and Jack found tears welling up in his own eyes.

"I mean, really," Bunny was continuing, "how could ever think that it was a good idea? You should have known-"

"You shouldn't have... Why didn't you..." Tooth was hiccupping, Bunny was still talking, no one noticed Sandy's frantic attempts to get their attention, and suddenly Jack couldn't take it anymore.

"WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!" he exploded, and they froze, once again staring at their youngest member in shock. "What was I supposed to do?! I try and eat what grows in the forest, but you may not have noticed that I'm a **winter** spirit! And you just said it yourself, I shouldn't be stealing! So what else is there?" He was crying now, tears spilling out his eyes and freezing to his cheeks. "What else is there? I don't know if we can starve, but hunger **hurts**. It hurts like a million demons scratching at your insides, it feels like your stomach is being sucked into a hole, and for the better part of my life I was hungry all the time. Now, though, when people are throwing away entire meals and I'm getting enough to eat, you tell me I'm not allowed to?" Tooth reached out, but he swatted her hand away, rubbing at his eyes in a desperate attempt to stop them from leaking. "Nothing grows in winter..." he repeated brokenly, "and I don't want to steal. Scavenging is all that's left. But if you don't want me to do that..." He grabbed his staff, breaths coming in great shuddering gasps. "I guess you want me to starve."

He tried to turn, to get to the window, to run away and try to work out how everything had deteriorated so quickly. But great furry arms wrapped around him and kept him pinned to the spot, and North stepped forward and quickly wrestled his staff from him. His conduit gone, the youngest guardian quickly gave up and went limp. Bunny scooped him up, and depositing him unceremoniously on the sofa, the winter spirit's lightness now taking a more sinister turn for the Pooka.

"Jack," he said gently, "we didn't mean it like that. Jack, are you listening?" The spirit continued to cry, but nodded, curling into himself. "We're not mad at you, not in the slightest. You've done nothing wrong. It's our fault, all of it, but we're going to fix it, okay? No more dumpster diving." Behind him, North had waylaid two yetis and was ordering them to fix up a large meal for the winter child.

"Sweet Tooth?" murmured Tooth, reaching out to the youngest guardian. "Jack? We're sorry. We didn't mean to upset you; we were just worried about you." She handed him his hoodie and he pulled it back on, taking comfort in the familiar folds of fabric. "Jack? Say something, please."

"What else am I supposed to do?" he sniffled, looking up at them with his large azure eyes.

"Come to us," said North, stepping forward. "You are welcome to food from my kitchen any time you want."

"The same goes for me," added Tooth. Sandy nodded vehemently, pointing to himself to indicate that the same was true for him.

"Me too, mate," chipped in Bunny, "though you have to ask if you want the Easter chocolate. But help yourself to any of the vegetables." The winter spirit laughed gently, crinkling his nose in mock disgust.

"Ew," he giggled softly, "vegetables." The others smiled, relieved to see he was feeling better. One of the yetis came in and garbled something to North. The great Cossack grinned.

"Yetis have prepared family meal. We go eat, yes?" They all looked at Jack, who nodded and sat up. He smiled at them gratefully.

"Yes," he said, and followed North out the room, Sandy bouncing along after them. Bunny hung back and gestured to Tooth to do the same.

"We may have sorted this little problem out," he muttered to the guardian of dreams, "but as soon as Snowflake's had a good meal and a rest, we have a lot to talk about." Tooth nodded, nervously nibbling her lip.

"It won't be easy," she replied. "You saw his face when you brought it up."

"Yeah," sighed Bunny, "but we have to."

"TOOTH! BUNNY!" North's voice boomed from down the corridor. "Where are you?"

"Coming!" called Tooth, and they hurried to the table where their family sat.


	12. The People of Antarctica

**Holy... WOW! I actually love all of you SO FRICKIN MUCH right now! You guys are amazing, and I will definitely be keeping on with this! I just... WOW! WOW! I got 14 reviews in less than a day! 14! (MASSIVE CYBER HUGS AND COOKIES FOR ALL!) I'm going to be posting twice today, in a massive thank you creative writing BURST!**

**This chapter was a request for darkangel795, who asked for a follow up to 'Tribute to Isolation.' I've made it quite long, as a sorry for taking a while, and I kinda... ran with it :D I hope this was what you wanted!**

**And don't worry, everybody, the stars will be explained. My muse for that particular chapter is being a bit bratty, so I've put him in the time-out corner for a while, and I will come back to him later.**

**Disclaimer: Let's just say that, if I ever do own RotG, I will definitely end up telling you**

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"I'm sorry, Bunny, I just don't understand it."

"How can you not understand it? What's there to understand?"

"It's so _boring_! It's a bunch of old men running back and forth. I don't understand how you can willingly sit through an hour of it, let alone five days!"

"Wha... How can you... A bunch of old men running back and forth?!" Bunny stared at Tooth incredulously, and she stared back, exasperation written plainly on her delicate features. They were in North's new TV den, a HD 100 inch TV showing the highlights of the morning as the teams took a break for lunch.

"I'm sorry, Bunny. I guess I'm just not a cricket person." Tooth was spared Bunny's answer as the door burst open and a rush of cold air greeted the room. Jack leapt on the sofa between them, grinning broadly.

"Hey, guys! How's it going? Mind if I change?" Without waiting for a reply he snatched the remote and switched the channels, ignoring the Pooka's glare. "Check it: I send this massive blizzard through Russia, enough to bury them for the next two weeks! It snowed ten feet in one day! That's, like... woah."

The news flashed up onto the screen, showing the weatherman babbling excitedly about this strange new development. Jack smiled proudly, but the older guardians looked concerned.

"Jack, isn't that big a blizzard dangerous?" asked Tooth. Jack shrugged.

"Shouldn't be; I gave them plenty of warning, and Russia's used to dealing with things like this. It's not like I sent it to Florida!" Neither of them looked reassured.

"But what if there's an emergency? Or they run out of supplies, or... or..."

"Look, Tooth, I'm just doing what Gaia sent me to do. Trust me when I say that disobeying her is a bad idea, even if she has sort of lost it." Tooth still looked unhappy, but Bunny remembered what he had seen in the Room of Views and felt his stomach churn. He still needed to talk to the kid about that. Not now, though; not with Tooth around.

"I just don't think you should be so reckless. And what do you mean that Gaia's lost it?" Jack opened his mouth to reply, but suddenly froze, eyes fixed on the TV. Bunny and Tooth turned back to the screen, and Bunny stopped dead when he realized what he was seeing.

"In other news," the anchorman was saying, "a team of explorers has made a startling in Antarctica. Joshua Manning and the Research Scientists of Abernathy were journeying across the Tundra in the hopes of finding a previously unknown emperor penguin nesting site when they stumbled across an ice sheet covered in more than a hundred ice sculptures. Here's Josephine Dent with the full story." The image swapped to a rather windswept blonde, with snowflakes in her hair and eyelashes, trying to grin brightly at the camera.

"Hello, George. I am standing on an ice sheet two hundred miles from the nearest coastline, surrounded by more than a hundred of the most beautiful ice sculptures I've ever seen. The figures are wearing a variety of dress, ranging from civil war uniforms right through to the plaid shirts so popular in the nineties, and researchers are at a complete loss as to how they got here. Since their discovery nearly a month ago, historians, geographers and many other academics have been working to unravel the mysteries contained within them, but all have drawn a blank. However, now that summer has returned to the southern hemisphere the weather is clear enough for the sculptures to be packed up and transported to educational institutes around the world for further examination. Perhaps then some light will be shed on the People of Antarctica. This has been Josephine Dent with CNN news."

With a strangled yelp Jack leapt to his feet, snatched his staff and flew out the window, leaving a stunned Bunny and Tooth sat on the sofa, watching the images of the ice sculptures flash before them. Some of them Bunny recognized from his brief time there, and when an image of the ice Sandy appeared before them, Tooth gave a little squeak before turning to the Pooka.

"Did you know about these?" He nodded. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Sandy is here!" North called, bursting into the room with a grin. "Meeting can begin... where has Jack gone?" Sandy floated in after, and they both looked at the other two's expressions. "What is wrong?"

"Watch this," Bunny ordered, hitting rewind on the remote (Oh, how he loved modern technology), "and then I'll explain to all of you." They sat in silence as the expose once again played on the giant screen. When it finished, Bunny turned it off and swung himself around to face the others.

"Was this made by Jack?" asked North.

"Yeah. I came across it about three years ago, when I was looking for the Aeternitus flower."

"Is that the one that stops the eggs being perishable?" checked Tooth.

"Yeah. One flower gives me a ten year supply, which means ten years of non-stress and extra good Easters. But that's not important now." He leaned forward, making sure they were all listening. "You guys haven't seen these things: even the super high-def TV doesn't catch how real they look. They are absolute perfection, and there are dozens of them, all in different poses."

"Well, why didn't you tell us about them?" asked North.

"Because Jack made them when he was alone, and if he didn't say anything, I wasn't going to. Just thinking of all the time he spent down there, carving them and perfecting them, all by himself... you haven't been there, you wouldn't know. It's so _silent_ and so _alone_, and I've no idea why he even chose the spot in the first place, because there's nothing significant nearby, unless he knew about the flower, but it is pure isolation. And you stand there, surrounded by these sculptures that look like people, and they're all smiling and stuff, but it's completely quiet and..." Bunny couldn't finish, a shiver running through him. "And he made us- well, not you, Tooth, he didn't know you then- but he made your fairies! And he got us all perfectly. I don't know how he got us that perfectly, because we never spent any time with him, but he did. It just... I can't even describe it. I just... Look, all you really need to know is that Jack made these while he was alone, and now the humans have found them."

Sandy stared at the ground, seemingly deep in thought, well Tooth sank back onto the sofa cushions pensively. North's eyebrow's knitted in concern and he looked at the Pooka.

"If Jack spent so much time on these, then he is probably worried that humans will damage them." Bunny nodded.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't down there now," replied the guardian of hope, and he got up. "I'm gonna go check on him, make sure he isn't freaking out or anything."

"Do you want us to come with you?" asked Tooth, worried.

"Nah, I don't think too many of us should go. I know where it is, and I've already seen it, so I'll head down. I'll meet you back here in a bit; 'spose we'll have to postpone the meeting, eh North?" And with a thump of his foot, the Pooka was gone.

* * *

"Be careful with that!" Jack yelled as they carried the frozen child across the ice and attached it to the snow-mobile. A research base was already being set up about a kilometre away, with some of the keener anthropologists, historians and other academics flying in to look around the site.

"Jack!" called Bunny, shivering as the harsh Antarctic air slammed into him. The winter spirit froze and turned around. There were clear tear tracks on his face, which he hastily brushed away when he saw the Pooka.

"What do I do, Bunny? They can't be here, they can't see this..." Jack froze, and his eyes flitted to the corner where Bunny knew the guardian sculptures were sat. "_You_ can't be here!"

"Calm down, Frostbite, I've been here before."

"What? When?"

"I found it about three years ago."

"Do the others know?"

"Well, they do _now_." The child slumped, and Bunny put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Hey, it's okay Frostbite. What's wrong?"

"No one was meant to see these. And now there's going to be all sorts of enquiries, and conspiracy theories, and I'll never live it down, and it was just meant to be somewhere to go when... when everything got to be too much." The youngest guardian sniffed, eyes gleaming with tears that threatened to spill over.

"Well, every cloud has a silver lining," said Bunny, desperately trying to think of one. Jack obviously seemed to be on the same wavelength, because he tried for a laugh that ended up just sounding bitter.

"Oh, really? What is it, then?"

"Well, they are beautiful. And now the world is going to see them." The winter spirit flushed, but inspiration seized the Pooka, who now grinned. "And you can use them to get a load more believers."

"How?"

"Make one more sculpture. One of you, and put on a base with your name carved into the bottom. It'll be the only thing they have to go off, and within a few days your name will be everywhere." Jack paused, and a small smile crept onto his face.

"They can be my thing," he realized. "You leave eggs and North leaves gifts and Tooth leaves coins... I could leave sculptures!" He grinned now, and grabbed Bunny in a massive hug. The guardian of hope froze, before hugging him back, ignoring the shivers that wracked his body.

"It'll definitely be better than 'nipping at your nose.'" The boy stepped back, looking mortally embarrassed.

"Okay, I don't even know where that came from."

"What, so it's not accurate?"

"No! No, I do not go around 'nipping' at people's noses! In fact, I looked it up: that saying was around before I was born!" Bunny just laughed.

"Get to work, mate; you've got an ice sculpture to make." With that, he opened a tunnel and headed back to Santoff Clausen, leaving a still blushing Jack behind.

* * *

The People of Antarctica, as they came to be known, went down as one of the greatest unsolved mysteries in history, joining the ranks of Stonehenge and crop circles. Some argued that it was aliens, other that it was rich kids playing a prank. No one knew. Academics disagreed on nearly everything about the case, from when the sculptures were made to who put them there in the first place. However, they all agreed that the answer somehow lay hidden in the 'Other' sculpture, as it came to be called, discovered perhaps three hundred metres away from the rest.

The guardians didn't see Jack for a week as he worked on his final sculpture, though Bunny assured them he was fine. Finally, when he was finished, they all piled into the sleigh (with much complaining from Bunny) and flew down to take a look.

It was perfection, just like all his other sculptures. Ice Jack was leaning calmly on his staff, a small smirk playing around his lips as the cut crystal eyes seemed to twinkle with mischief. It was on a slab of thick ice that formed a base, and carved into this ice were the words

**I am Jack Frost**

Bunny slung an arm around the winter spirit's shoulder as the other's cooed over the effigy's detail. Jack was smiling proudly, his ears pink with pleasure as his eyes shone with happiness.

"Good job, Jack," said the Pooka. "Good job."

* * *

Lucy sniffed as she trudged slowly back home, the water of the puddle she had been pushed into chilling her to the bone. It wasn't fair: she hadn't done anything to them! So why did they hate her so much?

Her cousin Molly said that they were bullies, and that she just had to stand up for herself. Easier said than done! Lucy would never admit it to anyone, but she was scared; what if they did something more than push her into a puddle?

"How was your day, sweetie?" her mom called from the kitchen as she opened the door.

"Fine," replied Lucy. She hated lying to her mom, but she wasn't a snitch. No, she would have to work this out on her own. Sighing, she headed up to her room, planning on losing herself in a book for a while.

"What the-" she murmured, staring in surprise at her window. Perched on the outside ledge, bent over as though peering in, was some sort of fairy. Lucy hurried over and carefully opened the glass, reaching for what she now realised was an ice sculpture.

It was the daintiest little thing that Lucy had seen, with long hair and glasses like hers. It _was _her, the child realised, and a smile spread across her face. It was her as a fairy! Clutched in the figurines hand was a slip of paper, which the girl quickly unrolled.

_Stay strong and keep smiling. I believe in you._

_Jack Frost_

"That's pretty," commented her mom as she came into the room. "Where did you get that?" Lucy beamed, forgetting about the mud on her clothes and the names they had called her.

"A friend."

On the other side of the world, Jack Frost smiled as he felt another little light begin to glow.


	13. Explanations and interruptions

**Wowowowowowowowowowow :D I love you all sosososososososo much (I'm sorry, I may have ingested vast quantities of sugar in exctiement over reviews!)!**

**This is the first in a two, possibly three shot about what is up with Jack's scars. I'm going to admit, this is more of a trailer, but next week is half term, so I'l be able to update every day for a week! (hopefully. If studying for exams doesn't get in the way). And for anyone who might be slightly confused about the timeline:**

**Bunny discovered the field in Antarctica a few months before Jack became a guardian-the follow up to that was about three years later- Scavenger was set about a month after that- and this is a few weeks after scavenger.**

**So, without further ado- Onto the chapter! (oh, and to anyone just checking, this is my second chapter today! Just letting you know)**

* * *

"You ask him, Bunny!" decided Tooth. "You handled the ice sculptures thing!"

"No way, Sheila; I'm saving up my brownie points for another discussion I have to have with the kid," replied Bunny, thinking back to what he'd seen in the Room of Views.

"Bunnymund! What could possibly be more important than this?!"

"North, why don't you ask? You're the one who's always going on about wanting him to see you as a father figure!" North started, and stared in horror, before quickly shaking his head. Tooth rolled her eyes.

"Come on, Bunny! He's almost as bad at dealing with problems as Jack is; if he had his way we'd do nothing but eat cookies and tell happy stories all day!"

"Now, that is not fair-" began the Cossack.

"Shut it, North: you know it's true." Bunny sighed- he could see the fairy going into motherly mode, and with good reason. It had been several weeks since they had first seen Jack's scars, and had been bickering near constantly since then about how to broach the subject with him.

"Why don't you do it, Tooth?" snapped the Pooka, beginning to get annoyed.

"Because I'll mess it up," she answered simply, catching Bunny off guard. She noticed the others' confused stares and puffed up slightly, obviously uncomfortable. "I'll say something wrong, or I'll upset him, or I'll upset myself. I don't know how, but I'm too scatterbrained to handle something like this."

"That was... very self-deprecating. We need to talk about that sometime," managed the Pooka after a moment of stunned silence. Tooth gave a small laugh.

"Yeah, well, we need to talk about a lot of things; what discussion are you saving your brownie points for?" Before Bunny could reply, the window above him shattered as Jack shot through. For a second, everyone froze, staring at the youngest guardian, who lay on the floor in front of them. His clothes were singed and his skin was covered in burns. Then Tooth shot into action.

"Jack! What happened? Who did this to you?" The winter spirit groaned, blinking dazedly.

"Pierre," he mumbled. "Pierre Soleil."

"The summer spirit?" asked Bunny, before swearing loudly. "I'm gonna skin him alive."

"No!" yelled Jack, sitting upright and gasping at the shock of pain that shot through his body. "No, you need to find him! He's hurt too!"

Sandy threw an elf at them to catch their attention. Bunny was ashamed to realise he had forgotten the little man was even there. The eldest guardian pointed at himself, an image of a sun forming above his head.

"You will go find summer spirit?" asked North. Sandy nodded, and flew out what used to be the window. Once he'd left, Jack began to struggle to his feet.

"It's okay, Sweet Tooth," cooed Tooth, scooping him up. "I'll carry you up to the infirmary. I think you're running a fever." He grinned weakly.

"No worries," he murmured. "Just stick me in a snowdrift for a few days and I'll be fine."

"I don't think so! Bunny, you clean up this mess. I'll sort Jack out."

"But that's what the elves are for!"

"Now, Bunny!"

* * *

It was about an hour later that Sandy returned, carefully floating a sleeping summer spirit into the infirmary. Pierre was covered in red welts similar to Jack's burns, and was worryingly cold. He woke up as they lay him onto the bed.

"Hello," he murmured tiredly, blinking up at them blearily. "It's been a long time since I last saw the guardians; what brings me the honour?"

"Jack sent us to fetch you," Tooth replied, covering the spirit in hot water bottles. Pierre's eyes widened and he instantly seemed more awake, struggling to sit up. The fairy gently pushed him back down.

"Is he all right?"

"He'll be fine in a few days. You will, too, if you don't try to move too much."

"What happened?" asked North, returning with a tray of cocoa. Since the incident a few weeks before, the Elves weren't allowed to carry the scalding liquid near Jack. Pierre took one and sipped it gratefully. Bunny trailed in after, having helped the yetis board up the windows as they elves ate the broken glass.

"Gaia sent us both to the same area," he replied simply, "and our seasons clashed."

"So did you get into a fight?" asked Tooth, not following, "Why did you clash? Why didn't you talk it out? Didn't Gaia realise her mistake? Couldn't you just have ignored her?" The scatterbrained fairy paused for breath and looked at Pierre inquisitively. He smirked humourlessly, cold anger burning in his eyes.

"Gaia is not an easy person to disobey, especially recently. For now, I can say no more, except perhaps to warn you that incidents like this are becoming more and more frequent." For a few minutes, the guardians were silent, stumped by the cryptic comment and the meagre information. A few beds over, Jack lay so covered in icepacks that only his face peered out, fast asleep. Sandy floated over to give the child some sweet dreams, and as he did so the little golden man noticed Jack's hoodie slung over one of the chairs, slightly scorched but still wearable. The sight of it reminded Sandy of their argument earlier: perhaps Pierre knew something?

"What is it Sandy?" asked Tooth, looking down at the diminutive guardian. A golden **K** flashed in the dream sand above his head, and Bunny realised what he was trying to say.

"How long have you known Jack?" he asked, turning back to the summer spirit. Pierre paused, considering.

"I met him about seventy years after his birth, so... nearly a quarter of a century. Why?"

"Do you know why he's got all the scars he has? Mainly, why there's the letter K between his shoulders?" His skinny, emaciated shoulders that were only just beginning to gain some flesh.

Pierre's expression darkened and one hand clenched the bed sheets tightly as he pursed his lips. He seemed to be struggling to regain control of his emotions, and the guardians watched him silently. Finally, he sighed, and once more struggled into a sitting position. This time Tooth didn't argue, just helped to prop him up with some pillows. He paused once again, seeming to have difficulty deciding how to begin.

"It started before I met Jack," he said finally. "And it took many years of knowing him for me to find out that anything was amiss. Our meetings were so infrequent, and Jack never liked to talk about anything negative. As far as I can tell, I was the only one who spoke to him pleasantly, rather than in anger." Bunny felt his ears droop back until they were touching his head, remembering three hundred years or insults and arguments.

"No," Pierre continued, either not noticing or ignoring Bunny's discomfort, "I did not know for many years, and I never discovered the full extent- at least, not until the culmination."

"The culmination?" ventured Tooth nervously. Pierre sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Do you know the spirits of fall and spring?" They nodded.

"They always come to decennial Christmas party," said North, "very good guests. Were they there when scars were caused?" Bunny could have face palmed at the Russian's naivety.

"They caused the scars, North!" The Pooka snapped. "Right?" Pierre nodded grimly.

"From what I gather, it began about twenty years after Jack emerged from his lake. He was still learning the laws of nature, having had no one to guide him, and he frequently went wrong. One of the problems was that he'd often arrive too early, or stay too late. Hence many snowed over Easters, Bunnymund." Bunny nodded mutely, not trusting himself to speak. "This, as you can imagine, annoyed the spirits of the seasons affected."

"I know for fact that the first time it was just those two. Jack had overstayed his welcome into the northern hemisphere, and Breeze asked Herbst to help her get him out. Jack left the encounter with a black eye, several bruises, but nothing else."

"Wait a moment," cut in Tooth. "You mean to tell me that Lily Breeze- that sweet little thing with the blonde hair and the big eyes- actually hurt Jack?" Once again Pierre nodded, his expression somehow darkening.

"Unlike Winter and Summer, which are stagnant, spring and fall are seasons of change. They are quicker to anger, much shallower than most elementals, and their personalities are not consistent. They also have a distinct advantage over both of us. Now, may I continue?"

"Yeah, sorry," muttered the fairy shamefacedly.

"Wait," said North before the summer spirit could begin speaking again. "What is their advantage over you?"

"As the summer spirit I am hot, and as the winter spirit Jack is cold. Their seasons are seasons of change, and they can swap between the two. They can burn Jack, or they can freeze me. They can also work together easily, as they are alike. Jack and I, as opposites, struggle to do the same."

"I see," North nodded, deep in thought. "I'm sorry for interruption: please, continue." Pierre cleared his throat and carried on.

"After the first time, they continued to visit him every few years, justifying it by convincing themselves they were 'teaching him a lesson.' As time progressed these visits became more and more aggressive, the two of them using him as an outlet for their anger and frustration. About ten years before I first met Jack, some of the summer sprites got involved."

"But don't you control the summer sprites?" asked Bunny, confused. He regretted it the next instant when Pierre's face twisted into a scowl.

"No. I do not control them, nor do I have any say in their actions." He took a deep breath, calming himself, before continuing. "As I explained to Jack when we first met, the summer sprites and I are nothing more than a collaborative, with no hierarchy. I think I know now why he asked."

"But couldn't you stop them?" Tooth quelled beneath the look the summer spirit gave her.

"As I have said, at first I did not know, and then I did not know the full extent. Once it became clear that I was fond of the child people would not tell me anything. Jack himself kept quiet, and I had no way of knowing the truth. Now, I am trying to tell you the little I **do** know, but you make it very difficult with all your interruptions. So, for what I hope is the final time, may I continue?" The guardians nodded sheepishly.

"After that the meetings became more frequent. Sometime it was just Lily and Arnold, sometimes it was them and the summer sprites, sometimes it was just the summer sprites, and sometimes other got involved. Water nymphs, I hear, were particularly nasty, as were the glen watchers. Jack's injuries were worse as well, hence the plethora of scars that now litter his torso. One year, sometime in the early 1800s, I found out it was going to happen and tried to get to the child, to warn him. I arrived in time to see him set his own broken leg." Pierre paused when he saw North tentatively raise his hand, like a child in a classroom. "Yes?"

"Was Pitch ever involved?" asked the Cossack. Pierre shrugged.

"If he was I never knew about it. Perhaps he stayed on the sidelines, to feast on the fear. I do not know." They looked over to where Jack lay asleep, dreams of snowball fight floating above his head. Tooth found herself swallowing down tears.

"I still can't believe they would hurt him," she murmured.

"What about the K?" remembered Bunny. "Who gave him that?"

"I do not know many details of that," Pierre said slowly, his eyes fixed on Jack, "and I doubt I ever will. You are probably the only spirits not to know about it, but most refuse to mention it." A bitter expression warped the young man's features. "It was supposed to be a game, a sick game to celebrate Arnold's 500th birthday. They made a sport out of it."

"What happened?" whispered North, almost afraid to ask. Pierre barked out a short, humourless laugh.

"It all went horribly, horribly wrong. September 1958: they called it the culmination."

* * *

**Hooray for OCs! In case I wasn't clear, Lily Breeze is spring and Arnold Herbst is autumn. I'm working off the headcanon that Gaia is terrible at naming people!**

**Also, I need some really nasty immortals to be involved in the next chapter! I already have those two, the summer sprites and the main villain (see if you can guess!) but I need more! If you have any ideas, please tell me and I will stick them in.**

**Thanks again!**


	14. Hunting and hiding

**So hello again**

* * *

**! How are you? Good, good... I AM ON HALF TERM! FINALLY! NO SCHOOL FOR A WEEK!**

**just a butt-load of revision... ooh, goody.**

**So, yeah, here is part two in what will not be a three shot, though I may take a break and put up some other chapters before finishing this (my muse is still being bratty). I rewrote this so many times, and I am finally almost-sorta happy with it. Quick warning though, there is some language in here. Also, I made a mistake with the timeline last chapter: I meant to say Bunny finds the ice people a few months AFTER Jack becomes a guardian.**

**MartialArtsDancer: I'm glad you picked up on that :) No worries, all will be explained... one day**

**E: They're creatures of the forest (that I might have made up...), and they are nasty little things**

**darkangel795: Thank you, thank you, wish granted, and I certainly hope so too.**

* * *

"_What happened?" whispered North, almost afraid to ask. Pierre barked out a short, humourless laugh._

"_It all went horribly, horribly wrong. September 1958: they called it the culmination."_

Jack had very mixed feelings about the cruelty he suffered at the other spirits. On the one hand, it was acknowledgement. Those insults tailored perfectly to him, and the pain that would flare through his body, the fists and feet connecting with his skin, and the parting line- always the threatening promise of '_we'll see you again soon_'- were all proof that he existed. They were proof that he was alive and, since it involved them taking time out of their lives to hunt him down, it was proof that he meant at least something to others, even if that something was never good.

On the other hand- pain. Unbelievable amounts of pain. A lot of the time it was enough to make him pass out. By his count, in his immortal life, he'd set five broken legs and eight broken arms. There were dozens of other greenstick fractures that didn't need to be set, and even when his ribs were broken he had nothing to bind them with. The worst was when he broke his collarbone (or, rather, a water nymph broke his collarbone).

Because of this, once they were done- and how long it took for them to be done depended on who had cornered him, how many there were, and what their mood was (sometimes the beatings lasted for hours, carrying on long after he was unconscious)- he'd be left to care for his bruised and bloody body, and he would do so with a smile on his face. A small smile. A smile mixed with tears. A smile that hurt to smile because his face was so damaged and his lips were already split. But a smile nonetheless.

Sometimes, when he was going through a particularly bad stretch of isolation or depression, he wished they'd come for him. Cruel words were better than no words at all, and it was for precisely this reason that he didn't fight back. If he proved himself strong enough to fight back, to do some them some injury, then they might leave him alone. Then he would have nothing, except for one short conversation with Pierre every other decade, a few snide sentences passed between him and the groundhog whenever Gaia planned something (which wasn't often), and a verbal beating from Bunnymund if he were desperate enough to snow on Easter.

The beatings were both a blessing and a curse, and Jack had had far too long to ponder that fact in the sanctuary of his isolation.

* * *

"_They timed it well," Pierre continued, his expression closed. "I had just flown to the Southern hemisphere, and Jack had just returned up North. Since it was between seasons, we were both at our weakest, while Herbst and Breeze were strong."_

"Jaaaaaack," a voice crooned, rousing Jack from his slumber. "Frosty. Time to wake up." The gaggle of spirits watched the stirring child with malevolent grins. They had found him right where Breeze had said they would find him, fast asleep on the shores of his lake. He blinked blearily and they sniggered, excitement running through them. This was going to be fun. "He's awake."

The world swam into focus, and Jack felt his stomach drop as the striking visage of Lily Breeze appeared just a few inches away. He recoiled sharply and the sniggers intensified. Her being here could only mean one thing, and he stretched out his hand, groping for his staff.

"Don't even think about it," giggled the spring spirit. Pain burned up his arm, and he was unable to suppress a shout. She giggled again, and he realised she had stomped on his fingers. From the feel of it at least one was broken, probably more. Cradling the hand to his chest, he looked around, heart sinking at what he saw.

* * *

"_Most who were there refuse to admit it. I myself am only sure of a few. These included water nymphs, glen watchers, fire sprites, and, of course, Breeze and Herbst." Pierre's soft voice was filled with a cold anger that sparked a newfound respect for him in the guardians. It comforted them to know that, even when they were too ignorant and self absorbed, someone at least had cared about the winter spirit._

"Hey, guys," he said slowly, taking in the figures around him. Some of them were regulars, like the summer sprites and the water nymphs. Others, he didn't think he'd ever seen before. "Are we having a party?" Lily nodded and Jack paused, surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah," she beamed, eyes glinting maliciously. "It's Arnold's five hundredth birthday, and we wanted you to help us with a party game." Dread began to ball in Jack's stomach: something was going on, something more than just regular beatings, and he had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn't like it.

"Happy birthday," he muttered, nodding towards the Autumn spirit as he kept his eyes on Lily. With her large green eyes and wide smile, she was the picture of innocence, and Jack found that it was her who frightened him most: Others spirits could be threatening, intimidating or downright creepy, but there was just something incredibly sinister about the happy laugh and the chipper attitude she showed even as she knocked him down and cracked his ribs. "What game is this?"

"Do you go to England much?" The question threw him, and he shrugged.

"Not that much; England is more River's territory," he murmured, eyes flicking over to River Streams. The pessimistic water nymph who, oddly enough, was in charge of rain just smirked at him, looking far too happy.

"Well, in England there's a tradition of all the rich noblemen going on hunts," Lily continued perkily. "They get loads of beagles to hunt down their prey, and once the beagles have caught the prey the noblemen kill it."

"And this relates to me... how?" The dread was growing, and the sniggers returned, redoubled. Lily's bell-like laugh echoed ominously around him.

"Stupid Frost; Arnold's the nobleman, we're the beagles, and you," her grin widened impossibly, making her look almost manic, "are the prey."

"Thanks," he muttered, trying to climb to his feet only to have her foot pin him back down, "but I think I'll pass. I don't think it's my sort of... game."

"We really don't give a shit," she simpered. "To make this interesting, you can have a head start. Then we start looking for you." Her foot came away again, and someone threw his staff at him. "You have twelve hours, and then we come after you. Run, Frost."

* * *

"_What?!" roared the Pooka, only to be hastily shushed by the other guardians as the Frost child in question stirred in his sleep. Sandy sent him an extra bit of dream sand. _

"_They were hunting him... like animal?" gaped North, and Tooth floated to the ground, too horrified to keep flying. Pierre nodded sadly._

"_They gave him a twelve hour head start to try and hide himself. I've since come to believe that he may have tried to find me, but I was Brazil at the time, and there was no way for him to reach me."_

Jack took off as soon as she let him, but only managed to make it about a state before crashing back to the ground, groaning softly. His mangled fingers were burning, and he realized that he wouldn't be going anywhere until he'd sorted them out.

Wincing, he began to prod at them gently, trying to work out what was wrong with each. His middle finger was dislocated, and his ring finger was fractured, but thankfully only his pinkie was actually broken. He gritted his teeth, and with one sharp movement set each finger, lips clamped shut to muffle his cries. Once it was done, he froze them into place and leaned back against a tree. Sweat beaded his brow, and he was panting heavily, trying to think about anything but the pain.

There was no denying it: things were bad. He was injured, he was at his weakest, and there was horde of angry spirits biting the bit for the chance to beat him up. Because there was no chance that they would just take him straight to Arnold; no, they would want to have their fun before they let Arnold have his. He had to find somewhere to hide.

But where?

He could ask Pierre for help: the summer spirit was the closest thing he had to a friend, and had tried to talk to him about the incidents before. Pierre could help find him somewhere to hind, or defend him from them when they came. Perhaps he could even defend him if he was found.

But...

It was autumn up north, and winter down south. They were both weak, while Lily and Arnold were strong. What if the summer spirit made enemies, defending his wintry opposite? What if they hurt him?

What if he didn't care?

It had been nearly fifteen years since Jack had seen his warmer counterpart, and a further twenty years between then and the time before. Perhaps he was deluding himself by thinking that Pierre was anything more than a friendly acquaintance. Anyway, he didn't know where Pierre might be. No, he couldn't get him involved: it wouldn't be fair to him.

So then where should he go? It had to be somewhere cold, he knew that much. Somewhere with enough open ground to stop him being ambushed, but closed off enough that he could hide. There was an evergreen forest up in Siberia; could that work.

No. The glen watchers would find him.

Perhaps Antarctica, then, or the North Pole. Entire continents of ice, where it would be next to impossible to find a winter spirit. He could freeze himself into a cave! Then they might never find him.

But ice is just solid water; he controlled ice, but could water nymphs also control ice? He cursed himself for not knowing more about the other spirits.

What if he threw a curveball, and hid somewhere hot?

No, the summer spirits were the worst- after Arnold and Lily, of course- and burning was _so much worse_ than other physical pain. If they found him somewhere hot, they'd have even more of an advantage than normal. Besides, it would be no use managing to hide from a mob of angry spirits only to die from heatstroke.

A cave, then. He hadn't seen the groundhog there, and Bunnymund was a guardian: he would never hurt another spirit.

It could work! No matter the country, if you go deep enough the underground is nice and cool. If he chose a honeycomb network then he'd have both a hiding place and an escape route if he were to be discovered. He had twelve hours; he could grab some food from a bin somewhere and find a nice little cavern to hide in.

Decision made, Jack checked the sky, and his heart dropped; three hours had already passed. He had wasted too much time thinking, and he still needed to grab some food and fly to where he knew some caves to be. Swearing, he leapt to his feet: he needed to get moving.

* * *

"_He hid in New Zealand, in a network of caves called the Honeycomb hill. It was a good hiding place, clearly well thought out, and it was days before he was found."_

"Hello, Jack."

The winter spirit leapt to his feet, heart racing. How could he have been found already? He'd only been here for a few hours! But a pair of golden eyes blinked out at him from the shadows and he relaxed: he knew the nightmare king found physical assault... distasteful, much preferring the mental.

"Hey, Pitch; what are you doing here?"

"Oh, just basking in your pure, unadulterated fear."

"Good to know." For a while they sat in silence, until eventually Jack grew bored.

"So... what do you think of my hiding place?"

"I think you're very lucky none of the burrowers were part of that motley band of psychopaths, otherwise you would have been found out within minutes."

"I knew that the burrowers weren't involved, otherwise I wouldn't have picked here."

"You think that those spirits you saw at the lake were the only ones involved?" Silence. "Are you really that naive, Jack?"

"No." Pause. "Who else is there?"

"As well as Herbst and Breeze we have the water nymphs, the glen watchers, the summer sprites, Baby New Year-"

"What! But... he's... how does he...huh?!"

"Baby New Year isn't actually a baby, Jack."

"Oh... why do they call him 'baby' then?"

"Because mortals are freaks." Pause. "Should I continue?"

"Okay."

"There's Guy Fawkes, Jack Lantern, Loihi, Kilauea, Mauna Loa, Hualalai, Haleakala-"

"Whoa... who are they?"

"The sprites that guard the volcanoes of Hawaii."

"So... lava sprites?"

"No... I suppose you would call them volcano sprites- though no one does. They work with lava sprites though. Every active volcano has one, and for some reason these five don't like you."

"For MiM's sake, that was one time!"

"I shan't even ask."

"Can they burn things?"

"Yes."

"Fan-fucking-tastic."

"Really, Jack, children aren't supposed to use language like that."

"I'm not a child."

"Yes, you are."

"I'm 250 years old!"

"Yet you are trapped in the body of a teenager."

"So? I'm not a child." Pause. "Pitch?" But the nightmare king had disappeared, leaving Jack alone and even more afraid than before. Perhaps that had been the plan all along.

* * *

"Wotcher, Pitch!"

"I'm sorry?"

"It's slang."

"Oh." Pitch had returned several times over the past few days, never staying for long. Jack enjoyed the company, even though Pitch tended to leave him feeling more afraid than before. Still, he supposed that was to be expected with the man commonly known as the Nightmare King.

"Are they still looking?"

"Fervently. And I feel I must warn you, they're getting frustrated too. You are not going to be a happy spirit when they're through with you."

"Whoop-de-doo. Do you reckon they'll ever give up?"

"Most likely they'll stop actively searching in a week or two. Of course, even if months pass they'll still attack you on sight. And it appears you're running low on food." Jack's supply had been meagre to begin with, and now Pitch could see that there was barely any left.

"Any chance you want to go get me more?"

"Imbecile."

"Hey, a spirit can dream."

"Not you, Jack."

"We are not talking about this right now."

"Really? Does it not bother you that the only dreams you have are nightmares?"

"Fuck off."

"That Sanderson, despite being the friendliest of the guardians, never thinks to lull you to sleep?"

"I swear to god, Pitch, if you don't shut up I'll-"

"You'll what? Remember, I can go and tell them all exactly where you are right now." Pause. "Now, does it bother you that you don't dream?"

"Not all dreams come when you're asleep, Pitch. I may not be important enough for Sandy, but that doesn't mean I don't dream."

"And what do you dream of?"

"I'm not telling you!"

"Oh, Arnold..." called Pitch in a sing-song voice.

"Fine!" Sigh. "That they can see me; that I can talk to them; to have the ability to be walking down the street and you have to apologise to someone for stepping on their foot... it sounds wonderful."

"Too bad they'll never be more than dreams."

"You don't know that." Silence. "Pitch?" Once again, the man was gone.

* * *

"_Do you know who it was that found him?" Bunny's hands were clenched around his boomerangs, looking ready to go and murder the immortal responsible for the scars littering Jack's body. Pierre nodded grimly._

"_Everyone knows; it's impossible not to, considering they marked him." North's eyes widened._

"_You mean the 'K?'" Tooth fluttered back into the air, pursing her lips as she thought._

"_But whose name starts with a- oh..." she froze, horror dawning on her delicate features._

Jack had been humming to himself softly when he felt the presence close to him. Glancing around nervously, his heartbeat sped, but he forced himself to stay calm.

"Pitch?" _Pitch pitch pitch_ his voice echoed back to him. "Pitch, this isn't funny. Just show yourself, you bastard."

"Hello Jack," purred a voice. Jack whipped around, stomach dropping. They had found him. They had found him and now his time had come.

Out of the shadows stepped a woman, with short copper hair, cinnamon skin and cold grey eyes. He had never seen her before in his life, and he raised his staff nervously, confusion clouding his features.

"Who are you?"

* * *

"_Who was it, Toothy?" growled Bunny, but Tooth's answer froze on her lips as a short, humourless laugh caught stopped them short. Looking over, they realized too late that Jack was awake, his cerulean eyes a whirlpool of shame, annoyance and fear._

"_The mortals got one thing right," he said, his voice raspy; "Karma is a bitch."_


	15. Karma

**I'm so sorry about taking so long! I know I'm on half term, but I've been revising, because three weeks from now I have going to have nine finals in the space of a week! It is STRESSFUL!**

**This is the final chapter of the Jack's Scars arc, and it was really difficult to write, because I don't like hurting my characters any way except emotionally (emotionally I like to torture them!). Please tell me your thoughts, and any suggestions are very well received!**

* * *

"_Hello Jack," purred a voice. Jack whipped around, stomach dropping. They had found him. They had found him and now his time had come._

_Out of the shadows stepped a woman, with short copper hair, cinnamon skin and cold grey eyes. He had never seen her before in his life, and he raised his staff nervously, confusion clouding his features._

"_Who are you?"_

* * *

"Put down the staff, Jack."

"Who are you?" Something darted out of the shadows and snatched the staff from his hands. Before he had a chance to react, he found himself pinned to the wall by his throat, the woman's face only inches from his.

"My name is Karma, Jack; I've come to collect." More somethings slithered out of the darkness, snaking their way around their wrists and ankles. Karma let go of his throat and he dropped to the floor, gasping and wheezing.

"But I didn't do anything wrong," he managed finally. The somethings tightened, and Karma laughed.

"Of course you did; you're the winter spirit, that's all you can do." Jack's struggling stilled, and Karma grabbed his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. "Children starve; children freeze; cars slide on the icy roads; souls get lost in blizzards, never to be seen again. You've got an awful lot against you, Frost, and you're going to have even more in the future. I don't want have to bother dealing with you again, so I'm going to be extra thorough this time." She took a step away and eyed him like a predator eyes its prey.

Unbeknownst to both of them, Pitch stood in the shadows watching in trepidation. He had known Jack was found the moment it happened- the sheer amount of fear given off by the immortal child was impossible not to notice. He had come, wanting to know who it was, but had stopped when he realized.

Karma was old, even in immortal terms, and known for her coldness and her cruelty. Pitch hadn't even realized she was involved in this sick little 'game' the others were playing, but now that he did and she had found Jack the Nightmare King felt a strange feeling welling up inside his chest. Pity? Did he really pity the boy?

Yes. Looking at the terrible figure of Karma looming over the winter spirit, Pitch realized that he did. As he had said, Jack was a child, and no matter what he had done, Pitch was sure it wasn't enough to deserve what was about to be done to him.

He left when the first blow was struck, deciding to wait a day and then tell the other spirits where Jack was. He'd have to do it quietly- even he, the nightmare king, feared the wrath of Karma.

Jack stared up at her, refusing to break his gaze despite his smarting cheek. She stared back, a wry smirk pulling at her lips.

"To think I spent all this time looking for you;" her smile widened as her eyes narrowed dangerously, "and now I don't know where to start. Your face?" she questioned, punching him in the eye. He fell back with a muffled cry, but immediately looked back at her with the one eye that wasn't streaming. "Your torso?" She kicked him in the ribs, and this time he managed to stifle the noise that threatened to erupt from his throat.

Suddenly every trace of maliciousness vanished from her face, and her expressions lit up like a child's on Christmas morning. He had been wrong- Lily was an innocent little angel compared to this. Lily was sweet and nice and good. Lily was about as scary as a bunny rabbit compared to the woman standing before him. Karma bent over, putting her lips right next to Jack's ear. "I know," she breathed, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. "I could _burn_ you."

The small part of his brain that wasn't panicking rolled its eyes and muttered 'Really, Manny? Is it a coincidence that all my enemies have power over fire, or are you trying to tell me something?" It didn't manage to say any more, though, because next second his world was consumed in a haze of pain.

"That was fun," said Karma, pulling away a few seconds later. All Jack could manage was a few ragged breaths he stared at the handprints burned onto his arms. She snatched his hoodie and pulled it over his head, unbothered by his emaciated frame, before knocking him down and kneeling on his chest.

"Brace yourself, _Frosty_." The venom with which she hissed his name made him shudder. "Things are about to get a whole lot worse."

* * *

Why wasn't he unconscious? The amount of pain he'd suffered, the amount of pain he was still in, he felt like he at least had a right to be unconscious. To have a few moments of blissful darkness, where his mind was completely oblivious to what was being done.

On another level, though, he knew that being unconscious was a bad idea. Something about head trauma, or shock, or blood loss. He had listened in to a few doctors seminars in the past, hoping to learn something, but he hadn't understood most of the words. However, there was definitely something about not letting people go unconscious.

Karma picked him up and threw him into the wall, where he lay for a second, blood pooling around him. _Am I going to die?_ He wondered, and found himself too far gone to even care. Karma's foot connected again and again, and he was dimly aware of someone screaming. _Is that me?_ He realized, mind hazed by pain.

"One last thing," grinned Karma, pulling out a dagger. Jack's every muscle clenched in fear as she rolled him onto his stomach. "This is to make sure everyone knows that _I. Destroyed. You._" Each word was punctuated by a cut, and Jack's back was on fire, blood pouring out the wounds as he screamed for someone, _anyone_ to help him.

"What's going on?!" shrieked a voice, and he looked up to see Lily standing at the entrance to the cavern, a horrified look on her face. Clustered behind her were the others that had been part of this 'game.'

"I won," said Karma simply, and with that she disappeared. Mutterings broke out amongst the others, and Lily turned.

"Game's over," she snapped. "Karma ruined it. Head back to the glade, Arnold's prepared a feast. River, you tell him what happened."

"What about you?" asked one of the summer sprites.

"I'll be down in a second. I just need to take care of a few things." They left through their respective transports, those that could fly giving those that couldn't lifts. Within seconds it was just Lily and Jack left in the cave. She walked forward slowly, and Jack's fists clenched, bracing himself for whatever she was about to inflict on him. To his surprise though, she didn't scream, or swear, or kick him. Instead she knelt down beside him, and gently cupped his cheek in her hand.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "This was never meant to happen." Every inch of him trembled from the pain and the shock, but it was this that finally defeated him. What had Karma done to him if even Lily Breeze was upset? "Here," she handed him his staff, and the frost quickly got to work, freezing his wounds shut.

"Lily-" he began, but his throat was hoarse from screaming, and he didn't know what to say.

"Feel better," she told him, tears welling in her eyes, and then she was gone. He lay his head back down against the cool stone, now slick with his blood, and took deep, shuddering breaths as he tried to contain the sobs that threatened to wrack his frail frame.

The northern hemisphere experienced a very mild winter that year, and it was months before anyone saw Jack Frost again. What had happened was common knowledge, but raising it was of the highest taboo. When Pierre finally found the winter spirit and asked what had happened, Jack simply shuddered and changed the subject. No one dared to broach the subject with Karma, and the events that had transpired remained a mystery. After that fateful September, most of the other immortals left Jack well enough alone, save the occasional glen watcher or water nymph.

Jack was left to deal with his wounds alone. Every rib was broken, he had serious head trauma from his head being slammed repeatedly into the stone, he had numerous cuts all over him, internal bleeding, burns, and that god-forsaken K. Long after everything else had healed, it remained, raised above his skin as an awful testament to the demon that had done this to him. He hated it, and he began to hate himself too.

* * *

"Are all your scars from those incidents?" asked Tooth, nervous now that they knew Jack was awake. Bunny quietly wondered how much he'd been listening to. The immortal child shrugged.

"Most of them."

"Which ones aren't?"

"I've got a few from when I flew into barbed wire once. Some shrapnel scars from a bomb dropped in London when I was spreading snow during the blitz. A few bad encounters with wild animals. A hunter shot me once, because he didn't realize I was there. It goes on."

"What about those ones?" They all looked at the spirit's wrists, which was criss-crossed with thin silver scars. Only Pierre noticed that he paused for a beat too long.

"Yeah," said Jack. "Karma gave me those, too."


	16. Anaesthesia

**Hello! I'm updating, but it's short and it's kind of cracky. This idea sort of just came to me, and it's really strange, but I had fun writing this. This is set before the guardians find out about Karma and all that, just because I'm still trying to decide how they should react.**

**As always, reviews are welcome**

* * *

"North!" Tooth called, zooming into the workshop. Her eyes were wide with worry, and the limp form of their favourite winter spirit lay apparently unconscious in her arms. "North! I need help!"

"What is it?" asked North, freezing when he saw Jack. "What happened?" Behind him appeared Bunny and Sandy, who had been playing darts with the yetis. Tooth carefully deposited the youngest guardian on the ground, looking sheepish.

"As recently as the Victorian times, dentists would keep a child with them and pull out the child's healthy teeth to give to rich patrons."

"What's this got do with anything?" asked Bunny, confused.

"Well, it used to be part of my job to help them with the pain. And, uh, I never got around to getting rid of the anaesthetic. And Jack was playing hide and seek with Baby Tooth, and he found the room it was in, and he accidentally knocked over one of the canisters, and all the gas got out, and, well, look!"

Jack was sprawled on the floor of the workshop, grinning vacantly up at the ceiling and occasionally giggling to himself. His pupils were so dilated that only a sliver of the blue iris could be seen around the edge, and his cheeks were unusually rosy.

"Jack?" North asked cautiously, leaning forward. "Can you hear me, Jack?"

"The lights..." breathed the winter spirit, his voice much higher than usual. "The lights are so pretty; why are they so pretty? I want to eat them. I'm going to eat them." With this, he started to wriggle across the floor, still staring upwards, his movements sluggish and incredibly ungraceful.

"Oh, this is too good," grinned the Pooka, watching Jack's strange movements gleefully. "Do you have a video camera, North? Please say you have a video camera."

"Is very funny," agreed the Russian, "I will fetch camera. You get him up to bed, where he cannot hurt himself."

"Come on, Sweet Tooth," said Tooth gently, trying to lift Jack up. The guardian of fun's head lolled sideways, where he caught sight of Sandy.

"You," he pointed his to the golden man, and then froze for a good ten seconds, just staring at the nail in awe. "You are amazing," he finished finally, and Sandy smiled smugly. He and Tooth gently picked the child up, who started laughing. "I'm flying! Look, I can fly! I can-" he stopped again, and this time tears clouded his eyes.

"What's the matter, Jack?" Tooth asked immediately.

"I'm an awful person!" wailed the winter spirit. It was all Bunny could do not to fall over he was laughing so hard, and the corners of Tooth's mouth were twitching.

"Why?"

"I-I..." Tears began to stream down his face, and he was hiccupping too hard to speak properly. "I... I..." North returned with the camera, but paused in concern at the sight of their youngest member.

"What did you do, Jack?" asked Bunny, switching the camera on and pointing it towards the immortal child.

"I told Sophie her new white dress was pretty," he sniffled.

"And?"

"It was after labour day!" gasped the winter spirit, chest heaving with barely suppressed sobs. Sandy lost it at this, golden tears of laughter running down his cheeks as he fell back onto a pile of dream sand, clutching his sides.

"Sophie iz four, Jack," said North gently, trying to keep a straight face. "I do not think that she cares."

"But I care!" shrieked the winter spirit, fresh sobs wracking his tiny frame. Phil the yeti ran into the room, worried at the noises he could hear, and Jack froze at the sight of him.

"Hey, Phil," smirked Bunny. "Jackie here has got a bit of a problem."

"You're so beautiful," whispered the immortal child, staring at the yeti in awe. "You're like custard." He wriggled out of Tooth's grasp and started to crawl towards North's head of security, who was staring at the boy with panic in his eyes.

"Run, Phil," chuckled North as Tooth shrieked with laughter. The yeti fled, and the winter spirit collapsed onto his back, once again staring up at the ceiling.

"Woah," he sighed. "I feel like purple."


	17. Things to talk about

**Hello my lovelies! I'm sorry about the long absence, revision has broken my soul and government issue tests have leached away my creativity! So here you go, and I'll try to put up another one before I go back to school, but there might be a long break after that (like, three or four weeks). Sorry in advance.**

**On another note, I'm glad you guys liked my little... I don't even know what that last chapter was. Reina Ariadne, I'm sorry you got in trouble :P**

**A lot of you guys seemed to want the whole Karma thing to continue, so I'm carrying on with my headcanon- if I'm not careful this drabble series might develop an actual plot! So here you go- the next installment!**

***please review :D***

* * *

The guardians soon left the room once they realised Jack was awake, feeling both uncomfortable with having been caught talking about him and unsure with how to handle the knowledge they found themselves burdened with. For a few moments all was silent in the infirmary, until Pierre rolled his head to look the winter spirit squarely in the eyes.

"When are you going to tell them how you actually got those scars?" Jack's expression was immediately guarded.

"I told you: Karma gave them to me."

"I'm not the guardians. Jack; I am aware of what goes on around me, and I am aware of how people think and feel." Jack stared at the summer spirit for a moment longer before dropping his gaze.

"I'm not going to tell them," he muttered. "It's not something they ever need to know."

"I disagree. You should tell them."

"Yeah, well, who asked you?" snapped the immortal child, immediately looking ashamed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean... thanks for caring, but it's something I'd much rather leave in the past."

"It doesn't happen any more, then?"

"No." Jack shifted slightly, before looking back to Pierre. "There's a lot of things that need to be told. A lot of things I probably should tell them."

"Like what actually happened in '68?" Jack nodded, eyes musing.

"And what's going on with Gaia. Why I hate open bodies of water. Why I won't go near Linz in Austria. I should probably mention what happened with Pitch in Antarctica too, but... I don't want to remember these things." A wry smile tugged at Pierre's lips.

"Emotional repression tends not to be a good thing, Jack." The winter spirit rolled his eyes and smiled too.

"Yeah, well, it's one of the few things I'm good at. Besides, there are some things that are best left... not talked about."

"Like?"

"They have no idea what's going on with Gaia." Pierre sighed.

"Yes, I realised. When I was first brought in Tooth asked why we didn't just ignore her orders." Jack's eyes bulged as his mouth opened incredulously.

"Seriously? Did they... wow." He stared up at the ceiling, huffing in surprise. "Just... wow. I mean, I know they're... not the most aware, but you would think they would know _that_. I mean, that's... that's like someone not knowing who the guardians protect! They might just not know anything." The summer spirit raised his eyebrow, Jack's uncharacteristically strong reaction surprising him: normally the immortal child was quite closed off.

"Most likely it's exacerbated by the fact that you don't tell them anything."

"And that they never talk to anyone but themselves." Pierre hummed, nodding.

"It isn't good for them to remain so ignorant: it could leave them weak, at a disadvantage." Jack shrugged and smirked.

"That's why they have me; I'm their eyes and ears in the spirit world."

"Not to upset you, Jack, but you're no socialite." The winter spirit snorted and muttered something to himself that Pierre didn't quite catch. He continued regardless, knowing that Jack knew it to be the truth. "Also, any information you do glean from not talking to people isn't going to be very helpful if you don't tell them."

"I suppose." Pierre was about to continue, but suddenly a yawn overcame him, and his eyelids began to feel incredibly heavy. "Have you slept yet?" The summer spirit shook his head. "You probably should. I kinda got you pretty badly. Sorry about that."

"I am also sorry, but it was out of our hands. You should also rest. We can continue this conversation another time." They lay back, both now realizing how _exhausted_ they were. Within moments they were in deep sleep, calm and dreamless.

* * *

On the other side of the door, a rather similar conversation was going on.

"What are we waiting for?" asked North, pulling out his swords. "We go find Karma, and we make her pay for what she did to Jack!"

"Not a good idea, mate!" cried Bunny, eyes bulging as Sandy snatched the swords away. "You do not want to be messing with her."

"But she hurt Jack," said the Russian, confused by the others' lack of enthusiasm. "We cannot let her get away without punishment, surely."

"It's tricky," hummed Tooth, a nervous crease appearing between her eyebrows. "Because I really, really want justice for Jack, but..."

"But Karma would beat us senseless, and then make bad thing happen to us for the next century to boot!" snapped Bunny. North snorted.

"Karma is one spirit! We could take her!"

"No, mate: we couldn't," said Bunny firmly.

"Also, it happened nearly seventy years ago," added Tooth. "We can't just turn up demanding an explanation for something that happened more than half a century ago! And what if we get Pierre in trouble for telling us?"

"Well, then, what should we do?" demanded North.

"There's nothing we can do!"

"Not quite," cut in Bunny. "I have a certain spring spirit that I want to have a nice, long... talk with." Tooth rounded on him, pursing her lips angrily.

"Now, don't you even think about it! Before you go talk with her, we need to talk!"

"About what?"

"About EVERYTHING! This family seems to be incapable of communication! We need to talk with Jack about what we heard. We need to ask him what exactly is going on with Gaia. You need to tell us about what you were planning on talking to him about!" She stopped, and Bunny realised she was waiting for him to say something.

"About what really happened with the blizzard of '68."

"What do you mean 'what really happened?'" He shifted uncomfortably, knowing that if he told her how he'd been snooping in her palace he wouldn't make it to the end of the day. He'd be made into a throw rug, or worse.

"I just want to get his... point of view, is all." He tried to sound nonchalant, he really did, but Tooth wasn't buying it.

"You held it as a grudge for nearly fifty years, then you don't mention it for three, and now you 'just want to talk about it?'" she asked scathingly. "What are you hiding, Bunnymund? Tell me right now, or-" they were interrupted by an elf falling over, and that brief distraction was all Bunny needed.

"I'mgoingtogotalktoBreezeaboutwhatwejustfoundoutan dmaybeverballymurderherbye!" he gasped out, and next second he was gone. Tooth frowned darkly.

"He is in so much trouble when he gets back," she muttered. North gulped and edged away slightly, Sandy right behind him.

"Sandy: come help me fetch cookies for injured spirits," suggested North, and they both fled. Tooth sighed the sigh of the long suffering.

"Boys!" she groaned, and went to check on Jack and Pierre.

* * *

Bunny found her basking on a rock on one of the Greek islands, smiling as she absorbed the sunlight. He deliberately stepped in front, casting her into shadow. She crooked open an eye, and sighed when she was realised who it was.

"I was wondering when you'd come and find me." The spring spirit cut in before he had a chance to open his mouth, opening both eyes to stare at him impudently. "I was beginning to think he would never tell you."

"He didn't," growled the Pooka. "We found out on our own." Lily raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow and curled her upper lip slightly.

"No you didn't. Was it Pierre?"

"What does it matter to you?!" spat Bunny, anger rising. Lily remained stubbornly calm, stretching her arms slowly behind her head and shutting her eyes again, relaxing into the curve of the warm stone.

"No one talks about what happened. And even if they did, you guardians are so wrapped up in yourselves that you probably still wouldn't know."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean," her eyes flashed back open, her expression deepening into a scowl, "that you know nothing about what's going on. You're all so _high and mighty_, none of the other spirits are worth talking to. It's disgusting."

"Now you listen here-" snarled the Pooka, but Lily cut him off, finally sitting up. He noticed her wince as she did so, but he was too angry to care.

"No, Bunnymund. Don't even bother pretending you four care about the other spirits, because it's bullshit. When was the last time you spoke to the leprechaun? And have you seen Gaia within the last two decades? You're so self absorbed, you didn't even realise that the blizzard of '68 was an accident." Bunny froze, his ears flattening against his head.

"You knew about that?"

"Oh, please! Everyone can tell when a seasonal's magic is forced from them. Even if you couldn't, the groundhog wouldn't shut up about it for a good six months. Crowing about how sweet little Jack Frost thought he was protecting the big brave Easter Bunny's holiday."

"You know what, we are not talking about this," he snapped. "We are talking about what you did-"

"What about what **you** did, _Bunny_?" The venom dripping from those words made him recoil, and she stepped forward, eyes flashing dangerously. "Or does it not matter? Does your guardian status somehow excuse you?"

"I don't know what you're t-talking about," he stammered, leaning away from the enraged spirit before him. Lily barked out a sharp laugh, one hand hugging her side.

"I guess you think you're better than me. That, for whatever reason, you are not responsible for your actions. At least he knew where he stood with me- pain. Always pain. You, however, are meant to be a guardian of childhood, and this child was trying to help you. Yet, once again- pain. Not just from the forced expulsion of magic, but also because a certain _role model_ literally kicked him when he was down."

"How do you know about this?"

"Wood nymphs: they've got eyes everywhere, and if you knew anything then you would know that they're always watching. Even Jack worked that out after a few years. You've been a guardian for five hundred, and you still didn't know." She looked like she was going to say more, but a sudden coughing fit wracked her body and she collapsed onto the ground, hugging herself tightly.

"Are you okay?" asked Bunny nervously, watching her face crease in pain. What he wanted was a good, long argument, but she seemed quite badly injured. He stretched out a paw to help her, but she slapped it away, a snarl on her lips.

"It's just a few broken ribs," she hissed, "nothing you care about."

"Do you want some help?"

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" The sudden shout made him jump, and quickly back up a few paces. She got uncertainly to her feet, and fixed him with a glare of the deepest loathing. "Go back to your warren, rabbit. Go back to burying your head in the sand. There's a shit storm coming, and it's nothing you'll care to be involved in, so go hide! If we're still here when you come out, then we can talk." A cruel smile twisted her lips, warping her beautiful face into something terrible. "And when you get back, tell Pierre that the water sprites are ready when he is."

With that, she turned and left, leaving a very puzzled and deeply concerned Pooka to relay the news to his family.

* * *

**Hahaha, this chapter answers nothing!**


	18. Attempting to socialise

**So... back to school tomorrow :( No updates for at least a week, maybe longer. That's depressing.**

**Yeah, this drabble plan is definitely devloping a plot, and I'm not quite sure if I'm meant to be remedying that. Just tell me if this arc/storyline/whateverthehellthisis gets boring, mkay?**

**And thanks to all my lovely reviewers! Holy bejebus I got loads on the last chapter! I went to sleep and when I came back I nearly had a heart attack! I read every single review, and I love them all! Nearly 100 now, and more than 60 followers! I feel so loved :D Thank you!**

* * *

"You're lucky the yetis have such good medicine to take care of you with," Tooth scolded gently, brushing Jack's bangs away from his eyes. He pulled a face, looking disgruntled.

"But I'm bored! We've already been in here for, like, ten hours! Can't I get up? I need to send a blizzard to Lapland!"

"Jackson Frost, you are not going anywhere for at least two days, am I clear?" Tooth turned to face Pierre, who was smirking at the winter spirit's obvious displeasure with the situation. "The same goes for you!" The summer spirit raised his hands calmly.

"I have no problem with this: if not for your hospitality, I would be recovering in a sand dune somewhere in the Sahara." Tooth paused, eyes widening as she looked between the two.

"Jack, you said something about us throwing you in a snow bank; is that honestly what seasonals do when they're hurt?" The two spirits glanced at each other, Jack nodding to Pierre to say that he could answer. The elder spirit shrugged and agreed, turning back to the fairy.

"Essentially, yes. We don't have homes to recuperate in like you guardians do. Seasons change, and we have to move with our season. There's no time to set up a permanent home."

"What about between the seasons? When one hemisphere is in spring and the other is in fall? Where do you go then?"

"I go to the equator, generally sticking around Brazil. Jack, you used to go to...?"

"Antarctica," nodded the winter spirit. "I used to spend my down time in Antarctica, making those ice sculpture you saw on the news Tooth."

"Oh, yes, I've been meaning to ask you about those!" said Pierre, eyes lighting up and leaning forward. "I've heard that you used-"

"Hey, Toothy!" whispered a voice. Tooth turned to see Bunny peering in through the door, beckoning her over with his paw. Her lips pursed angrily.

"What do you want?" she hissed.

"I need to tell you what I found out." Tooth hesitated, wanting to stay mad at Bunny, but curiosity won out and she slipped out the room, neither of the occupants noticing. North and Sandy were already waiting in the living room, sharing a plate of cookies, and Tooth quickly grabbed one before they were all gone.

"What did she say?" asked the fairy through a mouthful of peanut butter and chocolate chip. North smiled at the sight, hoping beyond hope that she wouldn't remember how much sugar his cookies had in them. "Did you make her rue the day she messed with our Sweet Tooth?" The Pooka paused.

"Not quite."

"Well, what happened?" insisted North, leaning forward. Next to him, Sandy nodded eagerly, indecipherable symbols flashing above his head.

"She yelled at me. Like, properly _screamed_ at me."

Stunned silence met this statement, North not even bothering to shoo away the elves now reaching for the plate. Finally Tooth raised an eyebrow sardonically.

"Congratulations on achieving the exact opposite of what you hoped to accomplish," she said finally, and Bunny bit back a growl. She was clearly still mad at him for earlier. "Why was she yelling at you?"

"She called us ignorant, and said that we don't know anything that's going on in the spirit world, and that we're too high and mighty to talk to or care about anyone other than ourselves. Asked me when the last time I saw Gaia or the leprechaun was. Told me that there is, and I use her words, a shit storm coming, and that if she's still around at the end of it then she'll talk to me. That wood nymphs are always watching and that the water nymphs want to tell Pierre that they're ready when he is. Oh, and she was injured. She was hugging her side, and she actually collapsed when she started to yell at me."

"What do you think hurt her?" asked Tooth. "Do you think it had something to do with Jack and Pierre hurting each other?"

"I do not think so," said North, looking concerned, "otherwise they would have said."

"Maybe not; they might not have wanted us helping them," chipped in Bunny. Sandy shook his head, a snowflake and a sun with a line through each appearing above his head.

"Are you saying that they're not like that?" checked Tooth. Sandy nodded. "Yeah, I think so too. So what could have hurt her?"

"What about wood nymphs?" asked North. "You said they are 'always watching,' da? Could it be them?"

"What are wood nymphs?" asked Tooth, and they all shrugged. She sighed, a worried crease appearing between her eyebrows. "Are we really that clueless?"

"I'm beginning to think we are," muttered Bunny despondently. "Aside from Pierre, when was the last time we spoke to a non-guardian?"

"I saw Cupid about a year back," offered Tooth. North shrugged, and no one noticed Sandy's symbols. "And we don't have to be clueless. How about we go out and we find out stuff- we should go and visit the leprechaun, and ask Jack what wood nymphs are, and I could go to the glade, just chat with some people!" The glade was a magically enchanted section of forest where the elementals sometimes gathered to hang out and catch up on news.

"I will go visit Leprechaun," said North. "We used to be drinking friends, in 1700s. I will go to Ireland and see what silly spring spirit is talking about."

"And I can go ask Jack about wood nymphs," finished Bunny, "and tell Pierre what Lily said about the water nymphs."

"Okay, shall we meet back up here when we're done?" checked Tooth. They nodded, and went their separate ways.

Sandy glanced around him to make sure they really had gone before alighting on his sound cloud and speeding out through the window. The guardian of dreams was sick of being ignored and forgotten, but for once he was grateful for it- he had something that needed doing, and the others would almost certainly try to stop him if they knew.

* * *

"Paddy?" North called hesitantly, knocking again. "Patrick?" He gave the door a gentle push and it swung open, revealing the gloomy interior. The Russian frowned: the little house, carved into the side of a hillock, looked very different to when he had last seen it. The vibrant green wallpaper was faded and peeling, and a thick layer of dust coated every surface. The air was musty and damp; it reeked of old alcohol and North wrinkled his nose at the smell.

"Who's there?" called a weary voice. North carefully shut the door behind him and padded down the corridor.

"It is me, old friend," he replied, peering around a door frame into what he remembered was the living room. Empty whisky bottles were scattered across the carpet, a mound of corks was piled into the corner, and a dishevelled looking leprechaun was stretched as far across the sofa as his diminutive size would allow. The Irishman squinted up blearily, confusion clouding his eyes at who he saw standing before him.

"Nick?" he mumbled, voice thick. "What are you doing here?" North tried to smile, suddenly uncomfortable, and carefully sat down at the other end of the couch.

"I came to visit an old drinking friend," said the Cossack softly, "and I find him like this. What has happened to you?" The leprechaun raised an eyebrow, upper lip curling into a sneer.

"What's happened? What hasn't happened, that's what you should really be asking me."

"What do you mean? Have you been attacked?"

"Well, I had the English force their Protestants on my land, I've been invaded, I've had to suffer through the plague, there was the Irish potato famine, there was the fighting- I came close to a civil war!- and then the split, and the acts of terrorism, my country is the butt of every joke, and now all that's happening in the Euro zone, and I thought I was clear but then it collapsed again in 2014, and my country is divided, and the IRA has flared, and... how could I not be an alcoholic? Tell me that. After all that's happened, how could I continue to be cheerful?"

"What about Lady Luck?" asked North, heart sinking. It had certainly been too long since he last saw Paddy, and he felt awful. This was almost worse than what had happened with Jack, because he and the leprechaun had been _friends _once. "At least you still have her, right?"

Paddy froze, his skin turning an odd shade of puce, and North paused as he wondered if he had somehow said the wrong thing. That sneaking suspicion was confirmed as the leprechaun's skin flushed dark red and he left to his feet, pointing a quivering finger towards North.

"Are you mocking me?!" screeched the dwarf, and North got up, quickly taking a step back. "Are you having a laugh? Oh, ha ha, look! Look how pathetic he is!"

"No, I am not!" cried North, desperately wondering what he had said wrong. "I just-"

"Get out!" howled the leprechaun. "**Out!" **The Cossack fled.

* * *

Tooth fluttered down into the glade, eyes wide as she took in the scene before her. It had been a long time since she visited, and she had forgotten how strange and magical this place was. Flowers and plants in various stages of bloom were dotted around, bodies of water that looked like puddles were actually the entrance to large underwater caverns where the more aquatic immortals convene, while fire and lava sprites relaxed in the flames of enchanted fires. The sheltered section of forest had an air of twilight and mystery about it, and a nervous frown spread across her face as she realised all the occupants had stopped and were staring at her in disbelief.

"Hello," she said awkwardly, giving a small wave. No one moved. "Um, hi. How is everybody?"

"Tooth?" said the groundhog incredulously, moving towards her like he couldn't believe his eyes. "What are _you _doing here?"

"I came to visit." She could feel a blush creeping up her neck, and she thanked Manny she had feathers to keep it hidden. "Why are you all... staring... at me?"

"You haven't been down here in more than four hundred years," snorted one of the lava sprites. "Excuse us for being a little surprised." There was something bitter in that tone, something that made Tooth feel uncomfortable, causing the blush to spread to her all-too-visible cheeks.

"I got caught up in work... wrapped up, I was so busy... it's only recently that I started to leave the palace again." She hated how small, how scared, how apologetic her voice sounded. She shouldn't have been apologetic! How many of these spirits had hurt Jack, had chased him across the continents in a cruel, sadistic game just for a laugh? Why should she be sorry, when she had done nothing wrong?! Opening her mouth to voice her mounting ire, Tooth was cut short by a burrower erupting from the soil in the middle of the glade. She hadn't seen one in centuries, but now she didn't notice the squat little body or the long claws that protruded from its hands where fingers would have been. She saw only the fear, the sheer and utter _panic_ in the creature's eyes as it gasped out two words:

"Gaia's coming!"

The effect was instantaneous: water nymphs shrieked and leapt into the pools as the more flammable immortals disappeared in a puff of flames, out through the enchanted fires. Summer sprites leapt into the air, carried away in a second by the South wind, and the groundhog grabbed Tooth by the waist and pulled her down, down into the ground.

"What's going on?" she cried, clumps of Earth falling into her eyes as he dragged her behind him. His tunnels were nothing like Bunny's; they were claustrophobic and crumbly, collapsing behind them as they went. "Why are we running?" Suddenly she was unceremoniously thrown back out of the ground. She was founding herself shivering in the snow outside of Santoff Clausen, staring into the grim eyes of the groundhog.

"You really picked the worst time, didn't you?" His voice was a deep growl, and Tooth found herself shrinking away from him. This wasn't the obnoxious jerk she had known- something had happened. "You should have stayed in your palace." And with that, he was gone.

* * *

"Hey," said the Pooka, bringing the two seasonals their fourth plate of cookies since they'd been admitted. Jack's eyes widened greedily, but Pierre just turned away, looking ill at the thought. "How are you two feeling?"

"The same as when Tooth asked half an hour ago," replied the younger of the two, hand reaching out to snatch a coconut cream. Bunny lightly smacked it away, holding the plate out of his reach. A smirk tugged at the winter spirit's lips. "Okay, Bunny, what do you want?" The guardian of hope shifted uncomfortably, with the sinking feeling that he was about to make himself look like an idiot.

"You know how the wood nymphs are always watching?"

"Yeah."

"What are wood nymphs?" he muttered.

"Pardon?"

"What are wood nymphs?" The Pooka snapped, and both seasonals froze, eyes slowly finding each other as Jack's mouth dropped slightly open with incredulity. "Don't look like that, just answer the damn question."

"Um... they're brownish-grey," began Pierre uncertainly, desperately forcing his eyebrows not to rise in disbelief. "And they live in forests and woods."

"They have really long fingers," continued Jack, "and black eyes, like, with no white or anything, and-"

"Wait, are they glen watchers?" Both spirits looked relieved.

"Yes," said Pierre, nodding gratefully, glad that the guardians weren't as ignorant as he had suddenly feared. "Wood nymph is another name for a glen watcher."

"Who've you been talking to that mentioned wood nymphs?" Jack smirked bemusedly, as though trying to get his head around the thought. "Matter of fact, who've you been talking to that isn't Pierre or a guardian?"

Bunny didn't really want to tell Jack he'd gone to confront Lily, and was about to make up an excuse involving the groundhog when North stumbled in, eyes wide with confusion.

"Bunny!" cried the Cossack, blue eyes filled with hurt and confusion. "It was horrible! He was very drunk and very depressed, kept talking about Euro zone and famines!" Once again, the two spirits exchanged confused glances as Bunny tried to calm down the great Russian.

"Hold on, there, North; what happened?"

"And then-" North continued, completely ignoring his fluffy friend, "I said at least he still has Lady Luck, and he went crazy! Mad! Bonkers!" Pierre looked horrified as Jack, unable to help himself, began to laugh. The sound of the child's mirth made the other two guardians pause. "What is so funny, Jack?" asked North slowly. The winter child just shook his head and continued to rock back and forth, his small frame shaking with the force of his laughter. Pierre sighed deeply and looked at North and Bunny.

"You should probably know," he said slowly, as though unsure of how to put it, "that Lady Luck... well, Lady Luck and Lady Liberty..."

"They shacked up," gasped the guardian of fun, grinning widely, "a good two hundred years ago!" And he dissolved into another mess of giggles as North seemed to deflate.

"Oh," was all he had to say, and now even the summer spirit could feel the corners of his mouth twitching.

"They've got a lovely apartment in Manhattan," he tried, hoping to somehow alleviate the situation. "It's got a beautiful view over the city, even if the traffic is a bit loud at times."

"Oh man... North... You..." Jack was wheezing now, tears of mirth freezing on his cheeks. The laughter stopped immediately, however, when the door swung open again to reveal a forlorn looking Tooth fairy, standing rather than flying, with bits of ice and snow in her hair.

"The groundhog is mean," she said in a small voice.


	19. War has begun

**Holy crudmonkeys, it's an update! *followers promptly fall off chair in shock and amazement***

**I know, I know, I'm sorry, but the real world and the examination system are both almost as bitchy as Karma (who may or may not be making an appearance next chapter ;) ) but I've already had 3 exams (2 Germans and a drama) and I've got six more days of examinations starting tomorrow and I am in so much trouble! I still need to learn my latin (9 pages of translation, 500 vocab words and revisiting all the tenses) brush up on my history and do everything else, and then I won't be home next weekend because my school is hosting a charity even on top of play rehearsal on Saturday after Saturday school and on Sunday, so this will definitely be the last one for two weeks. To try and apologise for my shitty updating, it's long (4000 words) and it's full of action (I've never tried writing action before :/ )**

**Read, review, I love you all**

* * *

Tooth finished relaying what the Groundhog had said, all the while a mournful expression in her eyes. When she was done, Bunny rounded on the two seasonals, ears flat against his head and forest green eyes dark with anger.

"Okay, mates," he snapped, and Jack and Pierre glanced at each other nervously; "you are going to tell us what is going on with Gaia and you are going to tell us right now, or so help me I will go and track her down myself.

"Don't!" Jack cried, sitting up hurriedly while Pierre's expression changed to one of alarm.

"We will tell you," he said quickly. "If you are so determined to know the truth, then we will tell you. I warn you now, though, it will not make for happy hearing."

"It can't be worse than Karma," Tooth murmured, but her violet eyes filled with concern. She fluttered to sit down on the end of Jack's bed, while Sandy settled himself on Pierre's. North and Bunny grabbed armchairs from the corner of the room and sat down, leaning forward expectantly. Pierre sighed.

"Do you want to tell them, or shall I?" he asked Jack. The winter spirit shrugged, then pointed towards his warmer counterpart.

"You're calmer," he said quietly, "and you'll tell it better. And I'll say if you leave anything out." The summer spirit nodded his acquiescence and turned back to the guardians.

"How well did you know Gaia?" he asked. "Before you became so... withdrawn."

"Not well," admitted North. "Bunny and Sandy probably knew her best."

"Fiery Sheila," smirked Bunny, while Sandy nodded. "Always banging on about her weather patterns and the 'natural order of things.'"

"She was obsessed with harmony, and nature being in balance," replied Pierre, looking like he was struggling to find the words. "As the controller of it all- 'Mother Nature' as mortals now call it- she has always been particularly sensitive to any disturbances. For the most part she let the seasonals and the elementals do their own thing, because we too are sensitive and know what needs to be done. However, on occasion there would be a job needed of us that we would not sense, and it was times like these that she would tell us what to do; perhaps I should say order."

"What happened if you disobeyed?" asked Tooth nervously.

"Bad things," Jack muttered, eyes dark, and Bunny didn't miss how he rubbed his finger pads together as he said it.

"Indeed," agreed Pierre sombrely, eyes floating to the younger spirit. "However," his eyes snapped back to the other guardians, "her judgement, which had always been sound, began to... deteriorate." North shifted, his gut telling him this would not end well.

"It began in the early twentieth century, a few decades after the advent of manufacturing and large scale factories. Toxic fumes being released into the air, destruction of natural resources, large scale urbanization... it all threw the natural order out of kilter. And this affected Gaia poorly." Pierre paused, and Jack took over.

"She started to order strange things; large hurricanes, tornadoes in places that don't normally have tornadoes, floods, blizzards in March, that sort of thing." Bunny felt his neck prickle uncomfortably at the reference to '68, and he tried to keep his expression neutral. Thankfully, the others didn't seem to notice his discomfort, and Jack continued obliviously. "It took a while to join the pieces: Gaia's always been distant, so even though you can see the effects it's had on her, it took a while to actually _see _the effect it's had on her." He leaned back onto the bed, and Pierre resumed.

"As pollution has gotten worse, so has Gaia's condition. Even the mortal's have picked up on it, attributing it to something they call 'climate change.' Now most try to avoid her at all costs: she's highly unstable, and there's no telling what you'll be ordered to do."

"You see," Jack supplemented, "if you don't know you've been ordered to do something then you're not expected to follow through."

"So how did you two end up like you did?" asked Bunny. Though they were visibly healed, Tooth still wasn't letting them out of bed for another day, something they had both resignedly accepted.

"I was ordered to send a heat wave through Michigan," sighed Pierre. "Jack was ordered to send a blizzard through Michigan."

"We'd bumped into each other somewhere over France," explained Jack, "and since it had been-what, fifteen years?- we decided to have stop and talk. She snuck up on us."

"Wait, _fifteen_ years?!" The spirits missed North's look of shock as they both seemed to be counting back in their heads.

"Are we counting the run in outside Beijing?" asked Pierre.

"Why wouldn't we?"

"Well, the conversation only lasted for five minutes."

"Fair point; in that case... spring of '88, was it?"

"Yes, so that's... 28 years?"

"Unless I'm counting wrong," concluded Jack, and they turned back to the guardians. "Yeah, but anyway, she sent us both there, and I don't know if you've ever noticed, but summer and winter aren't exactly compatible."

"We tried to hold back as much as we could," Pierre added, as though hoping to reassure them. "It could have been much worse."

"So, wait," cut in Bunny, still unsure; "what's actually happened to Gaia."

"Let's just say she's lost her mind," said the summer spirit darkly, "and everyone else is suffering because of it."

"What about spirits she doesn't control... are there spirits she doesn't control?" Tooth was beginning to realize the depth of her own ignorance, and it worried her. She didn't miss how Jack and Pierre, once again, looked at each other in thinly veiled disbelief, an expression she was beginning to tire of seeing on their faces.

"Yeah, there are..." Jack started slowly, before Pierre took over.

"But... that isn't much good. As well as injuries caused to oneself and others when acting upon Gaia's command, old rivalries are resurfacing, fights are breaking out, and everything is just..."

"Awful," finished Jack grimly.

"Oh, yeah," remembered Bunny, "Lily told me to tell you that the water nymphs are ready when you are." Pierre's face settled into one of grim resignation.

"So be it," he muttered as Jack frowned angrily.

"When were you talking to Lily?" he snapped. Bunny decided he really needed to work on his poker face as the winter spirit's eyebrow raised. "You went to talk to her, didn't you?"

"Perhaps," muttered the Pooka. Jack chuckled humourlessly.

"How did that go?"

* * *

The summer sprite glanced around nervously, heat radiating out from his lithe frame. He knew this was only going to lead to trouble, but the alternative was too awful to contemplate- he'd only tried resisting Gaia once, a few months back, thinking it surely couldn't be as bad as everyone claimed, and the scars were still raw and pink on his fingertips.

He worked quickly now, heating as small an area as possible without disobeying orders. Perhaps, if he was fast enough, he could get away before they noticed. Perhaps he could get back to the others, make the sides equal, avoid a one sided beat down that would leave him injured for weeks. A small part of him wondered if this fear was what it had felt like to be Jack Frost, but any sympathy he might have felt was quashed by annoyance that they no longer had their resident punching bag.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" a voice behind him smirked, and he froze, heart sinking. A cold laugh echoed through the valley around him, and what felt like a small pebble bounced off his back.

"Looks like we've got ourselves a sneaking little summer sprite," spat a second voice. "What are you doing here, sprite? Hey? Hey!" Another, larger pebble struck him, harder this time.

"I don't want any trouble," he said slowly, forcing his voice to remain calm and level. "I'm just here to do some work for Gaia, and then I'll be on my way." If he showed any weakness, be it anger or fear, they would descend. He couldn't risk himself- at least, not until he had given off enough heat. Then, maybe, he could get away.

"Hear that, Haldor? He doesn't want any trouble!"

"No trouble, Rika? But, weren't the summer sprites the one that burnt our home?"

"I do believe you're right, Haldor; maybe we should teach them a lesson." The stone hit the back of his head with a crack, and he whipped around, flames flaring in his palms as his eyes simmered in anger.

"Get away from me." His voice was low, threatening, a warning that they laughed at. More were arriving, murmurs rustling through them as they eyed his painfully diminutive form.

"Oh," muttered Rika, bright blonde hair falling over deep blue eyes. "Haldor- I do believe we've made him angry."

"Good," growled Haldor. "Perhaps he knows how we feel; Mirage, isn't it? You're in trouble now." The others sniggered, and the summer spirit, whose name was indeed Mirage, was suddenly transported back to a frozen lake and the nervous mixture of fear and defiance that shone from a certain winter spirit's face. He wondered now if his face reflected the expression.

"If you so much as touch me, I will hunt you down," he hissed, even as they began to close in around him. "One by one, and I will burn you. Your hair will be nothing but cinders, your clothes will be piles of char, and you flesh so scorched you will not be able to move for days."

"_Scary_," purred Rika, and then they were upon him, white clothes billowing outwards and blonde hair floating in golden halos around their heads as they punched, kicked and scratched with all their might. Some fell away with cries of pain, red handprints seared into their flesh, but more always followed.

"Mirage!" cried a voice suddenly, and another summer sprite swooped into the fray. The attackers bared their teeth, but held back when she was followed by two glen watchers.

"Ember," gasped Mirage, his lip cut open. "Am I glad to see you!" Ember checked his face quickly, before whirling around to face the enemy.

"You call yourselves the fair folk! How is this fair?"

"It's the mortals that call us that," sneered Haldor, "and I think that was meant as a physical description, _idiot_."

"You'll stay back if you know what's good for you!" she shouted, "There are more of us coming!" The ground between them erupted, and three burrowers appeared, followed by another glen watcher, who joined the first two, dark eyes glinting as it took in the scene.

"Oh, don't you even think about it," snapped the burrower. His voice was rough and gravelly, his squat body almost comical if not for the deadly claws that glinted in the sunlight, one now pointed menacingly towards Ember. "You've caused enough trouble here!"

"They attacked me!" roared Mirage. Several more summer sprites arrived, along with three lava sprites, who sized up the burrowers with derogatory smirks on their faces.

"After you attacked us!" Haldor roared back. He had to duck down to avoid a burst of fire that was aimed straight towards his face. With an enraged cry, Rika leapt towards the sprite responsible, and once again fighting broke out.

* * *

"You said two days, Tooth, and it's been two days!" Jack was whining; he knew it, and he didn't care, because he was still unused to having a bed to sleep in at all, let alone being confined to one.

"No, this is the _second_ day," replied Tooth. Jack didn't see a difference, and he doubted Pierre could either, but the summer spirit was keeping quiet, as usual. Pierre was mild, and had always been a diplomat, focusing on compromise. The winter spirit knew it pained him to have been unable to help with the... incidents.

"But I'm completely better! And I'm bored! It's autumn, it's cold enough for me to go visit Jamie! He'll be wondering where I am!"

"Jackson Frost, you are allowed out of this bed first thing tomorrow morning and not a second before, or so help me I will lock that staff of yours in the cupboard until spring."

"That wouldn't be wise, Toothiana." Tooth whirled and Jack leapt to his feet, glaring at the figure in the shadows. Pierre, as an elemental, had nothing to fear and bore no ill will towards the spirit opposite him, but he slowly rose as well.

"Pitch!" spat the fairy, eyes narrowing. The nightmare king laughed, and formed a chair from the black sand that hovered around him, a gross imitation of Sandy's dream cloud. "What are you doing here?"

"I've been hanging around for the past few days," he remarked casually, as if there was nothing creepy about that statement at all. "Santoff Clausen has been reeking of fear, and it's making me strong. The guardians' fear as Pierre told you what happened," for a moment, Pitch pauses, and his expression darkens before the smug smile returns and he continues; "Jack's fear of how you'll react, your fear that you really are so far out of the loop, Bunny's fear that he'll never be able to talk to _poor, precious Jack_ properly about '68, Pierre's fear of the water spirits and what they'll do to him, North's fear that his relationship with the leprechaun is unfixable, all of your fears for a war, why," his grin widened, "it's been a veritable _banquet._"

"Then let me rephrase Miss Tooth's question," replied Pierre, crossing his arms across his broad chest. "Why have you shown yourself?" Pitch sighed, his broad grin diminishing to a contented smile.

"Nice to finally meet an intelligent person in this building. The guardians have about the same IQ as the elves."

"Answer the question, Pitch." There was no threat in Pierre's words- his voice was low and commanding, not angry, not a warning; yet, not for the first time, Jack was glad Pierre hadn't been on the side of those who hunted him down, although this time it was for another reason entirely.

"To put it plainly," Pitch grumbled, and the winter spirit suspected it was because his moments of drama had been ruined, "War has broken out. Your pathetic attempts to stay in the loop have made me decide that you should know what the loop _really _is. Enjoy the anarchy, guardians." And he was gone again. Jack rolled his eyes.

"Could he be any more melodramatic?" But the others weren't paying attention. Pierre had leaned back onto the bed and had closed his eyes, muttering to himself as Tooth fluttered about anxiously.

"A war? But... should we get involved... or should we... maybe I should get the others!" And with that, she was gone. The winter spirit took this opportunity to grab his staff from its perch atop a medical cupboard on the other side of the room, and felt all his muscles relax as he shot two days worth of pent up frost energy out the window. Pierre smiled, and pulled a small lump of iron out of his pocket, using all his extra power to melt it into a puddle in his hands.

"Okay, you two, pack your bags," announced Bunny as he marched into the room, causing Jack to jump and Pierre to drop the glowing red iron on the floor with a sizzle. He hastily stepped on it, bare foot absorbing the heat as he tried to hide it. "North's going to the sleigh, and we're going to go hunt down whatever Pitch is talking about. We're leaving the yetis in charge of the building, in case this a diversion by Pitch to get us out of the way, and Phil has managed to get his hands on a Sig Sauer 556 rifle – don't ask me how, I blame North- so I think we'll be okay."

"They're in Scandinavia," said Pierre, as Jack gaped dumbly, trying to picture the yeti with a rifle.

"How do you know?"

"The summer sprites and I are linked, and if I focus hard enough I can tell where they are- granted they're using their powers. And a lot of them are using a lot of power in Scandinavia."

"What are we waiting for, then?" asked Jack, striding through the door. "Let's move!"

* * *

The sleigh shot through the open portal high over the Swedish plains. Bunny groaned, faced with the double whammy of the sleigh's jerky riding (courtesy of North) and the frigid night air.

"Why can't we ever have a fight in Australia?" he gasped. "Or equatorial Africa?"

"Because then I wouldn't be able to fight," smirked Jack. The smirk quickly faded, though, as they approached where Pierre had told them to go. "I see glen watchers," he called to the others, "summer sprites, lava sprites, some of the spirits of the Icelandic volcano, burrowers, Álfar-"

"What are Álfar?" cried Tooth, peering down.

"Scandinavian elves," Pierre called back. "Herbst and Breeze are also down there, as is the groundhog, several spring pixies-" He was cut off as something shot into the sleigh, making it lurch sickeningly. Bunny groaned again and North grappled with the reins.

"Get ready!" He yelled. "It seems we are going to enter into battle!" Tooth quickly grabbed Bunny and pulled him away from the now rapidly descending vehicle, while it took Sandy, Jack and Pierre's combined efforts to heft North into the air. "Santoff Clausen!" he yelled, throwing a snow globe in front of it, and the reindeer carried it through, leaving the guardians plus Pierre to float to the ground.

It was chaos. There was screaming and crying, spirits being bodily thrown great distances, and glowing balls of green energy and fireballs whizzing through the sky, forcing Bunny to duck and Tooth to have to dodge to one side. Jack stared at a group of three summer sprites trying to hold their own against some elves, while further on another two were battling with a burrower. Small groups of water sprites and lava sprites were grappling amongst each other, steam hissing up whenever they touched, a collection of burrowers seemed to be pulling spirits under the ground indiscriminately and Herbst appeared to be facing a particularly angry pair of volcano spirits, while the groundhog was scrambling to back away from a glen watcher, whose long, slender fingers were stretching out towards his neck...

And suddenly Pierre was tackled with the force of a speeding freight train, skidding to a stop a good five hundred metres away with two water nymphs perched upon his chest, deep blue eyes glittering malevolently.

"You're gonna get it now, Pierre," one of them hissed, drawing his fist back. The summer spirit grabbed it before it managed to connect to his face, using the momentum to fling the immortal over his head before pushing the other roughly off him and leaping to his feet.

"River! Brook! Get over here!" The first yelled, and Pierre facing not just two but six extra water nymphs. He set his jaw and adopted a fighting stance.

"Time to tango," muttered the summer spirit.

* * *

Jack leapt to his feet, ready to help his first, and for a long time his only, friend. Before he had a chance, though, a ball of fire whizzed just inches past his head, and he turned to see a summer sprite bearing down upon him.

"Frosty," it spat.

"Cinder," Jack growled. The guardians bunched together, ready to defend their youngest member, but North was suddenly dragged into the ground by one of the burrowers, and Tooth found herself being used as a shield by a hysterical spring pixie as a glen watcher advanced menacingly. Sandy was hit by one of the glowing balls of energy, and Bunny suddenly found himself face to face with a very pissed off groundhog.

"Bunnymund," it growled.

"Edmund," returned the Pooka. The groundhog bristled angrily.

"I told you never to use my real name!"

"Sorry, Eddie. Does this bother you, Ed? What about Mundy, can I call you that?" Bunny taunted. The groundhog lashed out, but the guardian of hope easily dodged, knocking Edmund's feet out from under him with one simple leg sweep. Instead of scrambling back up, though, he leapt at the ground beneath Bunny's feet, pulling them both into one of the warren tunnels. "You really don't want to mess with me, mate," laughed the Pooka as he flung one of his boomerangs at the old rival. "I can kick your scrawny arse!

* * *

Unfortunately, Jack was not faring so well. He had barely healed from the burns sustained two days before, and now as he had to dodge attack after attack, he wondered if he should just defend himself for once- show them what he was really capable of. The searing pain of a well aimed fireball settled it for him: he wasn't alone anymore, and he wasn't going to pretend to be weak now either. Snatching his staff, he shot a jet of ice at one of the sprites, freezing its feet to the floor.

"Ooh, is Frosty going to fight back?" the other one growled, lunging towards him. Jack grabbed the front of its shirt and rolled back, so that he was pinning it to the ground. "Get off me!"

"Why should I?" It reached up and pressed a burning handprint to his face and he screamed, rolling away and shooting a bolt of crackling blue energy towards it. A nearby lava sprite and a volcano spirit noticed the fight and leapt after Jack, grinning in glee- they had their old punching bag back.

* * *

"What do you want?!" shouted North, glancing around the gloomy tunnel anxiously. "Let me back up! I must go fight!" A burrower lunged out the darkness, claws swinging downwards in a deadly arc, but North parried the blow quickly with one of his swords.

"What. Are. You. Doing. Here. **Guardian**?" It sneered, accentuating each word with another failed attack. North found himself backed against the wall, and swinging his sword around North slammed the blunt hilt into the creature's chest. It fell back with a cry.

"Protecting my own," growled North, picking it bodily off the floor by its ankle and holding it at a safe distance so that the claws couldn't reach him. "Now, take me to the surface," he commanded. The creature snarled, but complied.

* * *

As this was going on underground, Tooth was having her own problems.

"Help me!" wailed the pixie, gripping her feathers so tightly that it ripped some of them out. "She's going to kill me! Don't let her hurt me, please!"

"Don't listen to him," snarled the glen watcher, advancing slowly. "You didn't see what they did to Maude; he deserves it."

"I don't even know who Maude is!" The pixie screamed in fear, now trying to scramble up Tooth's back. "Please, Queen Toothiana, I'll do anything!"

"Let's just calm down!" Tooth cried, trying to get her voice heard over the shouts and yells around her. "And we can try and talk this through like reasonable people, okay?" The pixie just wailed harder, and the glen watcher lunged forward. Tooth tried to dart away, but the pixie had managed to reach the space between her wings, and as one of them swatted into him she fell to the ground with a dull thud.

"NO!" He cried as the glen watcher ripped him away, but before Tooth's eyes his teeth lengthened and he bit deep into the other spirit's flesh, eliciting howls of pain and fury from the maddened immortal. Tooth scrambled away, wing aching dully, and found herself bumping into Sandy, who had a large char mark down his left side.

"Sandy!" she cried. "We have to stop this somehow! Can you-" Before she could continue the golden man's face darkened, and a whip shot forward, pulling a group of about eight water nymphs and a lava sprite away from a wearied and bloody Pierre, who smiled grimly.

"Thank you for that," he murmured, and then looked around. "Where are the others?" A summer sprite flew overhead, hands completely encased in ice, and then a very burnt and scorched winter spirit flew to them, leaning on his staff for support. Tooth could see blood seeping from a deep cut in one of his legs.

"This is crazy," he cried, gesturing to the fighting around them. None of them had ever seen so many spirits in one place before, and now the roars and screams and cries made him think they'd never want to again, either. "If we don't do something soon, Gaia's going to-"

A dark shape, like a cooled shooting star, plummeted from the sky to land on a rocky outcrop that overlooked the plain the fighting was on. A surge of energy washed over them, and even through all the noise they could hear a chilling cackle. Jack's arm dropped, and he seemed to deflate, slumping forward a little.

"Arrive," he finished.

* * *

**If you're stuck for something to do over the next two weeks, then practice your writing and drop me a review! :D I don't know if this counts as a cliffhanger, by the way, but if it does then I'm sorry (I'm not sorry at all).**


	20. Letters to Santa

**I know, I know. I'm a horrible author, and if I keep this up I'm probably going to be lynched. The last Gaia chapter is almost ready, though, and I swear I'll get it up tomorrow (Sunday), but I thought I'd give you this before then by way of apology (and to depress you). In my defence, it had probably been the busiest two weeks of my life: I had eight in eight subjects (5 A*s and 3 As, not that I'm counting :D ), I had an all in charity weekend, the school production was performed three times, the school had a parents day, I had to perform in a music concert and (and this is the most surprising one) I somehow found myself with a boyfriend in the shape of my best guy friend (I have a boyfriend?!). It's been hectic.**

**But, because I'm so amazing, here you go:**

**(because of damn formatting, please pretend all underlines are actually words being crossed out)**

* * *

_Dear St __Nikolas__ Nicholas,_

_I know that I've already written you a letter, and I'm sorry for writing to you again so late, but I've changed my mind. I don't want a dolly anymore, or a new winter coat. __What I really, really_

_Three days ago, on the__ twentyfirsttwentyfurst__ 21__st__, my brother Jackson went to live with our __father__ Father in heaven. And while I know that he deserves to be in heaven, because he was good, and doesn't deserve what bad people get, he shouldn't be in heaven yet. He only went there because of me, and I __want __need him back._

_You go __eve__ everywere all over in one night, so I'm sure it wouldn't be too hard for you to go to heaven and get Jack back. I understand that you may be busy now, and it doesn't have to be by Christmas. __Although it would be really, really good if itPlease just make it soon_

_Please, sir. I'll never ask for anything ever again, and Jack was always on the nice list. This summer, Papa promised to teach us both how to swim. And I need to teach him to mend his own clothes, because Mama's sick of doing it for him._

_Thank you very, very much. I know you will do all you can to find my brother, because you're a saint, and __paster __Pastor Jones says saints are always good people. Maybe you already know where he is? Does the lord Lord talk to Saints? (Or are you an angel now? I don't quite know)_

_Thank you again,_

_emma overlund__ Emma Overland_

* * *

**It's short, it's depressing, I love you all xx**

**(And I may, possibly, have been attacked by a plot bunny this last week and spent most of my (extremely limited) spare time working on that, it's a oneshot (maybe more) that I'm going to put up on my profile, so if you guys want to check it out, I may just love you forever and ever. Pre-warning, it's really depressing)**

**I mean what?**


	21. Conclusion of Karma-Gaia arc

**Yesssssssssssssss! It is finished! My magnus opus! The end of the Karma/Gaia arc thing that seems to have consumed the last ten chapters of this story! I hope I did it justice! I hope it was what you were looking for! I shan't bore you any longer!**

* * *

A shriek echoed over the battle field, like nails on a chalkboard, and for a brief, precious moment the fighting stopped. Then a figure rose atop a rocky outcrop, terrible and beautiful, and Bunny's heart sank as a call resonated around them.

"Kill!" The voice screamed. "Kill! None may leave until they have killed another!" The voice was filled with glee and malice, and as the words sunk in the world exploded around him. Burrowers dived into the ground and the glen watchers surged into the air, darkening the sky like a swarm of bats as they sped away. There were screams and yells as immortals tried to clump in groups of their own, hurling abuse and insults all the while.

"Jack?" said Bunny.

"Yes?" Jack was staring at the sight before him, fear filling his azure eyes.

"What happens if you disobey a command that's not to do with the weather?"

"The pain slowly gets worse and worse until you comply."

"And if you still don't comply."

"Trust me: you comply."

"Good to know." Their voices were low and ragged, too soft for the others. Tooth was fussing over Pierre and his injuries, while Sandy was giving North, who had appeared from the ground just before Gaia began to speak, a once over.

"You need to get out of here." Bunny snorted.

"Not happening, mate. We're not going anywhere without you."

"Did you not hear her?" Jack hissed. "'None may leave until they kill another.' I hate to break the news, Bunny, but the other immortals _don't like the guardians._ They'll go for you. You have to get out of here."

"We're going to figure out a way around this, mate, one that doesn't involve murder."

"For fuck's sake, Bunny, there is no other way!"

The Pooka opened his mouth to argue, but looking around he had to admit that, even as the guardian of hope, he had very little. They were standing on the edge of the plain; the ground before them was so churned it was a veritable quagmire, blood mixed in. Small fires were burning the scrubby Scandinavian brush, and the few remaining patches of flat ground were charred. The remaining seasonals were huddled in small groups, eyes darting warily as they kept an eye out for attackers- or tried to decide who to attack first.

North seemed to be looking to.

"This is not good," said the Cossack gravely, and Jack barked a laugh.

"You think?"

"What is to be done?"

"I agree with what Jack has doubtless already said," said Pierre, gently brushing Tooth away as she tried to dab at a cut above his eye. "You four need to get out of here: you are not elementals, and this is not your battle." A sudden gleam sparked into Tooth's eye.

"You're right!" she gasped. The other guardians, Jack excluded, stared at her in shock.

"We are not leaving Jack!" snapped Bunny. "Or Pierre," he tacked on as an afterthought. Tooth waved him away.

"No, not about that. Of course we wouldn't leave them; I mean he's right about us not being elementals. We could go and talk to Gaia, try and talk some sense into her!"

"I'm not sure that will-" started Jack, but Tooth had already flown of in a flash of iridescent wings. North, Sandy and Bunny looked at each other and shrugged.

"It is good plan," agreed North. "You two stay here; we will be back shortly, with problem all sorted out." They hopped onto Sandy's dream cloud and floated after Tooth. Pierre and Jack stared after them.

"Clueless," said Pierre finally. "You're family is clueless, and I mean that in the nicest possible way."

"They really are," agreed Jack. He paused. "Can you feel it?" Pierre nodded.

"It is starting; we should get down." Both spirits crouched behind a large rock as a headache began to take hold.

* * *

It really had been far too long, Bunny decided, as Gaia rounded on them and he felt his breath hitch while Tooth gasped.

Gaia had been tall, with a great mane of curly, copper hair. One eye had been deep green, the other dark brown. Her skin was a warm bronze, and her dress- made up of leaves of all different stages of growing or dying- had flown out around her like a cape, shimmering with magic. She had been distant and cold, and known for her stubbornness and fiery temper, but now the Pooka really wished they had kept a closer eye on her.

Her eyes were dull, clouded over with grit and dirt the way some eyes clouded over with cataracts. The dress was wilted and dead, cracked grey leaves hanging limply to her puce skin. Large chunks of hair, now muddy brown, had been ripped out, and long scratches had been gouged into her face. Putrid black diesel smoke, like that of old engines or particularly foul factory machines, guttered out of her ears constantly, her nose on every exhale, and her mouth when she opened it to speak. Hacking coughs wracked her small frame, and a manic grin made all the guardians feel very uncomfortable.

"Gaia," began North. As unofficial leader of the guardians, he felt that it was his sort-of duty to be the first to talk to her. She shuffled towards him, back hunched and arms wrapped around her lithe body protectively. "Please, take back those orders; put an end to this madness."

"Madness?" she barked, and began to laugh. "Madness? Oh, no, this isn't madness! This is right! This is how it's meant to be!" She leaped forward, grabbing North's shoulders, and perched on his chest, leaning forward so that her face was only inches away from his. "There are far too many of those sneaking spirits around, Nicholas; I'm just returning things back to how they should be." She whipped around and pointed an accusing finger at Sandy.

"I need a heat wave in Canada!" The golden man looked at her, puzzled, before turning to the others, large eyes asking them what to do. They shrugged back. "NOW!" she screamed, and he held up his hands in mock surrender and floated a few feet into the air. Seemingly appeased, Gaia now turned to Tooth. "Get your fairies to send a tornado to North Korea in the shape of the American flag."

"But I-" began Tooth helplessly.

"They weren't kidding when they said she was mad," Bunny muttered to North, who nodded back gravely.

"We must try to find way of reasoning with her," he muttered back, as they watched her screaming commands at an ever more panicked Tooth.

"And if we can't?"

"Then... then I do not know."

* * *

The plain was a seething, thrumming mass, ready to ignite at any moment. Even the sky was a raging red, a bloodied smear of sunset. Some groups of spirits were spitting abuse, others trying desperately to form alliances against mutual enemies. As the minutes ticked by, the pain within each and every one of them began to intensify, and Pierre groaned softly as he leaned against the rock they were crouching behind.

"Pierre," Jack whispered nervously, "what happens if they can't reason with her?"

"How desperate are you to live, Jack?"

"I'd quite like to; life only got good about three years ago, and I'm still trying to make the most of it." The summer spirit nodded to himself, and both were silent for a moment as another wave of pain engulfed them. As it passed, Jack slumped down next to his almost-but-not-quite friend.

"You have a choice, Jack: you can either kill someone, or be killed yourself. You can either die, or live out the rest of you eternal life as a murderer." The winter spirit chuckled humourlessly.

"Damned if you do, damned if you don't, hey?"

"I believe that is an apt way of describing it, yes." Again, the conversation lulled, the pain even worse this time, and when it finally diminished it still hurt more than before. "What about the Guardians' guardian? Surely you could ask the Man in the Moon to help you?" Jack laughed again, the bitterness apparent in his voice.

"Mim? Yeah, right; Mim doesn't care about me."

"But he chose you to be a guardian."

"No... Sort of... it's complicated."

"I can think of no better time for a character study then when we are potentially minutes away from slaughter."

"Fair point. Gaia agreed to let him choose the winter spirit, as she felt- apparently- that he was good at picking custodians. That's what the groundhog told me, at least. They needed someone who could look after winter responsibly. He chose me, because he thought I would be a good guardian, but that doesn't mean he wanted me as a guardian. Otherwise I would have become a guardian when I was first chosen, and not just when they needed help."

"Is this what you know for certain, or what you assume?"

"What else could there be? Why would he leave me alone for three centuries with only one-" Jack broke off and gestured helplessly at Pierre, who nodded in understanding. Neither of them were quite sure where they stood with their relationship, and though they both knew they had to talk it out sometime, now was not the time nor the place. "Why would he let the whole Karma incident happen? Why would he take away my memories?" Pierre's breath hitched.

"He took away your memories?"

"It wasn't until three years ago that I even knew that I was someone before I was Jack Frost."

"I'm sorry, Jack; I had no idea."

"No;" there it was again, that cold, hard laugh that was so disconsonant with the winter spirit's personality, "no one did." They both groaned, as did most of the other spirits, as the worst pain yet rolled through them. Both spirits found themselves gasping for breath when it passed, but Pierre was determined to see this conversation through.

"So did you get your memories back in the end?"

"Yeah; Tooth still had my baby teeth, and they showed me what happened."

"So why were you chosen?"

"I died."

"I'm sorry?"

"To save my sister. She was on thin ice, and was about to fall through, but I saved her and drowned in her stead."

"A true guardian."

"Not by the end of today, I won't be: I'll either be a dead guardian, or a killer."

"Perhaps we could-" Whatever Pierre had been about to say was abruptly cut off as Jack was slammed out of their hiding place, him and the thing that had hit him sliding into the middle of the field, all eyes locking onto them. Leaping to his feet, Pierre could see the winter spirit sprawled on the ground, Arnold Herbst towering menacingly over him.

"None may leave until they have killed another!" he shouted to the watching immortals. "But who says each kill must be different? I've got Frost, and I say we kill him together!" Murmurs rose up from the clumps of spirits, and to Pierre's horror they weren't murmurs of dissent. Jack's eyes widened, and he began to climb back to his feet, only for Herbst to knock him down again, placing one foot on the immortal child's neck. "Or do you want to be responsible for the death of a real immortal?"

"That's enough!" shouted Bunny, popping up in front of the autumn spirit and snatching him by the front of his shirt. Herbst gave a shout as he was lifted clean off the ground. "Yeh can shut yer mouth right now ya wanker, because if yeh try to lay so much as a finger on Frostbite then I'll hit you so hard yeh'll be walking wrong for a month." The other guardians materialised behind him, as well as Pierre, and Jack thought he might actually have seen Herbst gulp.

"Well, maybe we should kill you instead," shouted one of the lava sprites, Bunny didn't know her name, and shouts of agreement echoed around them.

"The world needs harmony more than little brats need hard boiled eggs," shouted another voice- perhaps a water nymph? Gaia appeared next to Jack, smiling manically, but the guardians didn't notice, focussed as they were on the angry immortals now creeping towards them.

"Lunar bastard," she hissed, eyes glinting behind the grit that clouded them. Pierre noticed and turned, but froze when he realised what was going on, not wanting to make it worse; however, if Jack needed helping, he swore to himself that he would help. "You were never any son of mine. Well let me tell you something," she bent down so that her lips were right next to Jack's ear, and whispered something softly. The spirit's azure eyes widened, and he shook his head slowly.

"No," he murmured; "you're lying." She cackled to herself.

"Oh, no; it's all true. Just like the summer spirit was actually born because-" and suddenly Pierre was there, and he punched her with all his strength. Gaia collapsed to the side, unconscious.

"Um, Jack!" called Tooth nervously, only just dodging a ball of fire. "Pierre! We have a problem!"

"I told you to leave!" Jack swore as he realized his staff was back at the rock they'd been hiding behind. The sun had disappeared entirely now, bathing the ground in the cold grey gleam of darkness, the moonlight bleaching the colour out of everyth... moonlight? "Manny?!" he shouted desperately. "We've got a problem. Manny?"

"Give it up, Frost," snarled a summer sprite who was now entirely too close for his comfort; "you may be a guardian, but you're still an elemental too."

"Oh for Pete's sake," muttered Pierre, "The guardians are in trouble!" he cried to the heavens. "Man in the moon, the guardians are under threat from-"

And a moonbeam shot out, lifting Gaia's unconscious form into the sky, and the snarling mob of immortals froze. _You are free from all orders_ a voice told them. Jack would have recognized it anywhere, despite only having heard it once, three hundred odd years ago. _Sanderson knows what to do with her now._

Sandy looked up- he did? But then, visible only to him, a golden 'K' flashed above the limp woman's form, and Sandy realized that, yes, he did know what to do.

For a moment, there was silence, as the events of the last ten seconds slowly sunk in. Then, as abruptly as the battle had ended, the elementals scattered, leaving behind the guardians and Pierre.

"So what are yeh gonna do with her?" asked Bunny, nodding at the limp form of Gaia that had been unceremoniously returned to solid ground, while Jack quickly grabbed his staff. Sandy just shook his head and tapped the side of his nose. The Pooka sighed, knowing he wouldn't get anything more from the little golden man.

"We head back to North pole, da?" asked North, pulling a snow globe out of his jacket. Jack and Pierre stared at it incredulously.

"You've had that this whole time?" asked the winter spirit in disbelief. North nodded. "And you didn't just use it... why?"

"Jack," he replied firmly, "you are family; we will not just be leaving you here."

"Nor you, Pierre," said Tooth kindly. "We wouldn't leave either of you."

"Now," smirked the Cossack, "I say Santoff Clausen." He smashed the snow globe and they disappeared through the portal, with a quick call of 'See you at the Pole!' to Sandy.

The oldest guardian eyed the prone figure before him and bit back a sigh- he hadn't wanted to do this ever again, and yet here he was, barely three days later.

* * *

"Jack?"

Bunny lay slumped over one of the armchairs. North had collapsed, snoring softly, into an armchair, and Tooth was curled up on the sofa. Jack and Pierre were the only two still awake. They were perched on the other sofa, one leaning against each arm and facing each other. It was as close as they could ever come without causing injury.

"Yeah?"

"I don't suppose you're going to tell me what Gaia said to you."

"Maybe one day."

"The day you tell the guardians about your wrists?"

"Yeah; the day I just stop lying and tell everyone everything."

"I have the feeling that day will a long time coming."

"You're probably right." The winter spirit paused for a second, wondering if he should ask. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you knocked Gaia out?"

"If all goes well, you'll never have to know that story."

"Damn."

"I should go." The summer spirit began to get up, yawning.

"You don't have to: North would be more than happy for you to sleep here tonight."

"Thank you, Jack, but I wouldn't want to overstay my welcome. Besides, if we were to fall asleep where we sat, we'd run the risk of our feet touching." Jack sucked in a breath, and Pierre smirked. "Indeed. But give my thanks, for everything they did."

"I'm going to be honest, they didn't really do anything. It was MiM who saved our necks."

"Yes, but would the man in the moon have helped if they were not there?"

"Point made; goodnight, Pierre."

"Goodnight, Jack."

"Hopefully we'll see each other within the next two decades" Pierre's teeth flashed in the dark as he chuckled quietly.

"I hope so too." And the summer spirit was gone.

Jack was saddened by the departure of his... whatever Pierre was. They had spent so much time together the past few days that he had almost hoped the summer spirit could...

No. MiM had no love for elementals, that much was certainly clear. Jack wondered if, if they ever knew what he knew, the guardians would love him as much as they did.

* * *

In the bowels of the earth, in one of the deepest caves that Sandy could find, three coffins lay next to each other. They were made of clear dream sand, and inside each lay a motionless inhabitant, not dead, but deep in a coma.

Was it irony that Karma had gotten what was coming to her?

Sandy didn't know: he'd never been good with the subtle art of the ironic, but he could definitely see there being something ultimately cruel and good in the spirit's ending. He didn't know if he'd ever release the one who had tormented the youngest guardian so, but if he did it would not be for a long while.

As for Gaia... well, the past decade or so humans seemed to have been getting quite into 'going green.' So perhaps she could be released before too long. The third inhabitant had been there so long that Sandy barely paid him any heed. He hated his unofficial title of jailer, and avoided dwelling on it. The third man

For now though, they slumbered on, dreamless sleep protecting the rest of the world from these three.

It was a pity, he though, that nightmare sand didn't work on Pitch.

* * *

**So, yeah. Just a few loose points I'm going to tie up:**

**1. Everyone ended up at the battle because of the Glen Watchers, who are little shit stirrers.**

**2. No, you will not be finding out about Jack or Pierre's secrets for at least thirty chapters. I want to go back to writing some actual drabbles first.**

**3. I don't know if anyone notices this (I'll keep doing it regardless) but I love interlinking all the chapters, and leaving sippets that lead on to things later. The most obvious is definitely the scars on Jack's wrists, but did anyone pick up on a few chapters ago, when I said that Sandy went to do something but never said what? Yeah, it was imprisoning Karma. And in the chapter that details the culmination, Jack things to himself that Bunny, as a guardian, would never hurt another spirit- this is set ten years before '68, when Bunny half beats him up. There's loads of them, some more obvious than others.**

**I hope you liked this conclusion! I'm on summer holiday from next week (2 months off! WHOO!) so I'll be able to update far more often. If you have a request, feel free to ask me in a review or in a private message. And, as always, all reviews are read and much appreciated!**

**Oh, and thank you to those who have gone and read 'Abandoned in Antarctica' I never expected such a huge response, and I'm really flattered! I will continue on with it, with two or three more long chapters, but don't worry- it shall not get more attention than this! Sorry for the shameless bit of self promotion last chapter (and the depression), but I thought you- being the little angst-mongers that you are- would like it (hoped).**

**Love you all!**

**xxx**


	22. Brother

**Ladies and gentlemen, the school holidays have arrived! WHOO! To celebrate, I present you with a short(ish) bit of fluff, requested by OrangeLee absolutely AGES ago, I'm sorry I've taken so long to get round to it. I hope I did it justice, it didn't come out as well as I had hoped.**

**But don't worry: Now that the holidays are here we can expect updates every few days! Isn't that exciting?**

* * *

"I'm a Bunny: the Easter Bunny. People believe in me." Jack froze, and the Pooka smirked triumphantly.

"Jack," muttered North. "Walk with me." The moment they had left Tooth rounded on Bunny.

"What was that?" she screeched. Sandy floated up next to her and nodded, both glaring at the other guardian furiously.

"What?" snapped Bunny.

"You just told him he might as well not even exist! Why would you do that? There was absolutely no need, and did you see the look on his face? Bunny, how could you?!"

"Are we just gonna forget what he's done to me? What about '68, hey? Or is this a single edged sword of fairness?"

"That was 50 years ago! Did you ever even bother to get his side of the story? No, I bet you didn't. I bet you went up there, yelled at him, and have been sulking ever since! Am I right?" Bunny flushed angrily and that was all the answer Tooth needed. "Exactly!"

"Well what about just now? Are we just going to lie down and let him say that about us? I don't think so! Everyone makes mistakes, and I don't see why Manny should be any exception to that rule!"

"Just accept it: he's a guardian!"

"He's a pest"

"He's a child!" The Pooka paused, and Tooth ploughed on. "Did you not see that boy? He's doesn't look a day over sixteen. We're sworn to help the children, so why is he still alone? Why did he think the only reason we were talking to him was because he was in trouble?"

"Perhaps because he's been on the naughty list for the past 300 years!"

"And he didn't even know it. No one even bothered to tell him."

"Tooth, we should not be feeling sorry for him-"

"And why not? Have you ever been walked through, Bunny? I haven't, but Cupid once told me it was the worst feeling in the world. How do you know he doesn't care about children? Perhaps he does. Perhaps he does every bit as much as you or I do, and he's out there with them every day, being walked through, invisible. Could you imagine how that feels? Can you imagine how-" She was cut off as one of the little fairies flew into her, chattering rapidly. "What? But- No!" She wheeled back to Bunny. "Get North! Pitch is attacking the palace!" She began to whizz off, but paused. "Don't even think this conversation is over."

* * *

Bunny ignored Frost's complaints as they hurried to the sleigh. He had bigger things to worry about than whether the kid was coming or not. The little stunt with pretending to fall off just reinforced his belief.

"Rack off, you show pony!"

When they got to the palace and found Pitch and the nightmares waiting for them, all thoughts of the arguments vanished from the Pooka's mind. The important thing was that they stopped the bogeyman, and as long as Jack stayed out of Bunny's way he couldn't really care what the winter spirit did.

Until Pitch noticed him, that was. For a heart stopping moment, when Pitch first said Jack's name, Bunny was worried that the nightmare king might try to recruit him. After all, the boy had already expressed clear disinterest in joining the guardians, and all that talk about being believed in must have had meaning to the child that it didn't have for the guardians.

"Then, I'm going to ignore you; but you must be used to that by now."

Though Bunny couldn't see Jack's expression from where he was standing, he could see the shoulders tense and the hands clasping the staff tighten. His mind, now unclouded by anger, flashed back to wide cerulean eyes shining with hurt, and suddenly his fury at Pitch increased tenfold.

"Pitch! You shadow sneaking ratbag, come here!"

* * *

"Just because you don't have enough believers to play a cricket match."

"You know what, I don't need to deal with this: there's a storm waiting for me in Russia. See you Tooth, North, Sandy."

It had been six months since the Pitch incident, and Bunny and Tooth had never actually finished their conversation. They were all at the Pole for one of their monthly meetings. Bunny had arrived late, having just encountered a particularly sneaky trap set up for him in the warren, and he and Jack had quickly gotten into a fight. Now he fought to ignore the small seed of guilt that was attempting to bloom inside of him.

"I don't understand it." Oh, great: Tooth. She was fiercely protective of the newest guardian, and if there was anyone who could make him feel bad about what he just said it was her.

"Don't understand what?"

"Okay, I understand why you fought; you shouldn't say the things you did, but I understand that it wasn't unprovoked. What I don't understand is why, when Pitch said almost the exact same things to him, you nearly knocked Jack down trying to tear his throat out." Bunny shrugged uncomfortably, hoping to avoid the topic, but he noticed Sandy and North leaning forward with keen interest and he sighed.

"I don't know; he winds me up, he's annoying as hell, he messes with my stuff... but no one is allowed to mess with him but me. See?"

"Not really," murmured Tooth.

"I do," said North, nodding knowledgeably. "He is like younger brother- you find him irritating, but you love him all the same, and do not want him to get hurt.

Bunny opened his mouth to protest... and then shut it again.

"Yeah... Yeah, I s'pose you're right." After all, he knew what was going to happen- he would fume for a few hours, as would Jack, then the winter spirit would hunt him out and they'd both apologize.

"Aw, that's so sweet!" beamed Tooth, worried face clearing. "Oh, Bunny!"

"Calm down Toothie, no need to make a big deal out of this. And no telling him either!"

"I won't!" Somehow Bunny couldn't quite find it in himself to trust her on that, and hoped that Jack would have the discretion to remain quiet on it when he did know. Although that, too, seemed highly unlikely in the Pooka's mind.


	23. Reading

**Helloooooooooooooooooooooooo! :D Guess what: It's an update on a Tuesday! Isn't that EXCITING! I LOVE being on holiday!**

**So I wanted to do something about Jack learning to read, but then I realized that if Jack didn't know how to read, how could Emma? As the son, wouldn't he have been the one they taught? This was my answer to that. I'm not too happy with how it turned out, it felt a bit too much like narrative for my liking, but I've rewritten it three times already, so I'm just going to go with it.**

**In case of any confusion, it starts when Jack is human in Burgess, moves on to 1890s London, then 1930s America and 1960s America. I'm just telling you now because I don't think I made it very clear in the writing.**

* * *

"You're William O'Reilly, aren't you?" The boy peered out shyly from the doorway of the newly erected farmhouse. Jack's father had been away most of the past week helping get it built before winter, and since the Williamsons- who lived a half hour horse ride away from the main part of Burgess- were the only ones with enough spare rooms, only a few of the adults had met the O'Reilly family. Now, though, Jack was determined to change that.

"Aye," he murmured, coming out a bit now that he saw it wasn't an adult.

"I'm Jackson Overland, and I'm nine years old. I have a basket of apples from my ma to give to your ma; do you want to come and play with us?" The boy smiled a bit, and took the apples.

"I'm nine years old too; I'll have to ask my ma, but I should be allowed." Five minutes later, the two little boys raced out, each clutching an apple and half a loaf of bread that was to be their lunch.

"Come on!" Jack called, "I'll show you where we play!" They hurried down the main road, trying not to crash into any of the adults bustling around the centre of the settlement.

"Jackson Overland!" One woman called, "Don't you get into any trouble, or your ma will be hearing about it!"

"Yes Aunt Agnes!" Jack called back, not even bothering to look back at the woman. "Come on, William, they're waiting for us!"

"Who?" asked William, panting as they shot through the trees. He had been on that boat for weeks, and he hadn't had time to get his strength back. They skidded into a clearing, Jack nearly toppling over as William crashed into him.

"Everyone, this is William O'Reilly; William, this is David, Jonathon, Peter and Joshua. David, Peter and I were all born here, but Jonathon and Joshua came over in boats too!"

"We were on the same boat," said Jonathon importantly. "And we were on it for six weeks, and we came all the way from England." Joshua elbowed him.

"I was only three, and Jonathon was two: we don't remember anything." All the boys were sitting on the mossy ground, and now they scooted towards William.

"So, tell us," breathed Jack earnestly. "What's it like on a boat." William seemed nervous at the attention.

"It started out alright," he began, "when there was enough food and everyone was happy. But then it got wet, and cold, and there was nothing to do because you're not allowed to play games. And the reverend on board was ever so strict, and he was a Mormon but we weren't, so he got ever so cross. And he'd always write speeches into the sermons for other passengers, but me pa always had to say them because he was the only one who could read, and-"

"Wait!" interrupted David, eyes widening. "Your pa can read?" William nodded, chest puffing out a little.

"And write, too. And he's teaching me: I already know all my letters, and I'm learning proper words. I can show you." And he leaned forward and drew a very wobbly 'A' into the dirt. "That's an A. It's one of-" William paused, trying to remember, "26 letters, I think it is."

"Cor," breathed Peter. "Do you think he could teach us?" William shook his head.

"He's ever so busy, what with the farm. He had a lot of time to teach me on the ship, but I don't know how much he'll have for me now." Jack wrinkled his little nose.

"That's no worry- who needs to read anyhow?" The other boys laughed, William looking a bit disgruntled.

"I think it's very useful," he said loftily. Jack shook his head.

"No one ever needs to know their letters: not around here anyhow."

* * *

"Ho, William! Is your pa, home?"

"Aye; why are you asking?"

"He made me an offer, and I came to say yes."

"Excellent!" boomed Mr O'Reilly, appearing behind William. "When will we be starting?"

"Except it's not for me, Mr Harvey." The Irishman paused, clearly confused.

"I'm afraid I don't quite understand, lad."

"I'll do the work you asked, chopping firewood and such. But I don't want the lessons- I was wondering if you could teach Emma instead?"

"Your sister? But she's just a wee lass of, what? Six?"

"Seven, sir; but she's ever so smart, and she wants to learn ever so much, so that she can read the signs on stores and next to roads."

"I don't know, lad: teaching a girl, and such a little one... Yeh're fourteen, aren't ya? Why don't you learn?" Jack chuckled softly.

"I wouldn't have the time to do the work and to learn, sir; anyhow, I doubt I'd be much good with letters. Emma has the brains- I'm just here to look good." William rolled his eyes as Mr O'Reilly paused, the words sinking in. Suddenly he roared with laughter.

"Oh, yeh're a funny one yeh are. Okay, lad; if you two come by on Sundays after church, I'll spend an hour teaching her her letters while yeh chop firewood. Sound fair?" Jack beamed.

"Very! Thank you sir!"

"See yeh on Sunday, lad!" the Irishman called after him. William looked at him curiously.

"Pa, I already chop firewood; why are yeh getting Jack to chop more?"

"If I taught him his letters for nothing, all the lads would be wanting me to do the same for them. And he's a good lad; 'sides, you can never have too much firewood, aye?"

* * *

"Jack! Jack! Jack!" Jack wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. Had an hour passed already? He was roasting, despite the piles of snow surrounding him, and oh hey, look at how much firewood he chopped- an hour must have passed. Emma bounded up, clutching a piece of paper in her hands, brown eyes shining.

"And what do you have there, little lady? You know I don't my letters."

"It's a letter I wrote," she told him gravely, "to Saint Nicholas, telling him what I want for Christmas." Jack raised an eyebrow, smiling: Christmas was two weeks away, and Emma hadn't been able to stop talking about St Nicholas or the Christmas roast.

"Oh, really? And what did you ask for?"

"A dolly and a new winter coat!"

"A _new winter coat!_ Are you sure St Nick will be able to afford it?" Emma giggled.

"He doesn't buy it, silly: he has elves that make everything for him." Jack's eyebrow quirked higher: this was news to him.

"Oh, really? And who told you that?"

"Lars did." Lars Svenson and his family had arrived a few months before from a place they called Scandinavia. They were always talking about elves and fairies and the like. Jack fought the urge to shake his head, knowing full well that hidden in his Ma's trunk was a brand new winter coat from 'St Nick.' It had taken their Pa months to save up, but Emma would be thrilled.

"Well, in that case I'm sure St Nicholas will get you your winter coat. Perhaps I should ask you to write a letter for me, so I can get a new coat too. Unless, of course, I'm on the naughty list." Emma giggled again.

"Don't be silly, Jack! You're on the nice list; you're on the nice list every year!"

"Well in that case all is well; come on, little lady, let's get to the town hall so that you can post that letter!"

* * *

Jack floated down to the pavement, having finished spreading frost across London. He'd have to be out before River found him, but that didn't mean he couldn't do a bit of a look around first. And by 'look around' he started looking around in the bins and on the sidewalk for penny dreadful, news papers, discarded letters, and any other types of writing. When he had a sheath of papers in his hand, he shot off back to Burgess.

A little way away from his lake was a cave, and it was in here that he now sat, the blue glow of his staff illuminating his surroundings. The papers he had collected before lay spread out in front of him, and now he scanned over them, eyes desperately searching for something he recognised. It was impossible.

So he decided to try a different tactic. He knew that there were 26 letters in the alphabet, though he wasn't sure how- he often knew things that he'd never learnt. Using a large piece of flat stone, he began to trace out the symbols he saw before him:

! & ) . , ? " T 5

And so on. There were so, so many symbols, and the symbols that were hand written looked completely different to the ones in the writing, and one of letters had a French stamp on it, so it might not even have been in English!

Jack flopped back, defeated. This reading business was a lot more difficult than it had looked like it would be. He was going to have to try another tactic.

* * *

Jack slipped inside the room with the children, careful to not let himself get walked through. He sat in the corner at the back, and watched attentively as the teacher strode into the room.

"Good morning class," she said, voice imperious.

"Good morning Mrs Hefty," they dully chanted back. Lessons began.

A little girl was called up to write the word ant. Then a little boy to write the word cat. Dog. Goat. Cow. Horse. A veritable farmyard was on the board by the time they moved on to mathematics. Jack, having no interest in mathematics, left, floating to a forest just outside the village where he'd been.

Using his finger, he scratched out Ant and then Cat, but couldn't remember the rest. His writing was shaky, lines joined crookedly in a way only achievable of someone who had no real grasp of letters. But now he knew how to write Ant and Cat, and that was a start.

He came back the next day, sitting in the same spot. This time the children wrote Pen and Book and Desk and Chair, and one little girl got given an orange because she managed to write Teacher without any mistakes. When Jack got back to the forest, he scratched out Ant and Cat and Pen and Desk. He got the feeling that this wasn't the right way to go about it, and left.

* * *

Jack glanced around the darkened room, staff once again providing the light that the surroundings lacked. It's very easy to remain in a store after closing times if you're invisible. Now he wandered over to the children's section, marked out by the scores of toddlers who had been there earlier that day, and picked up a book. It showed a lion in a zoo, and a bear, and lots of other animals. To Jack's disappointment, though, it didn't show any cats or ants.

Another one showed a picture of a little girl eating sweets and talking to her friends. Jack desperately wanted to know what she was talking to her friends about, wanted to know the story behind the images, wanted to be able to do what five year olds could. Alas, no luck: nothing spoke to him.

Then he picked up a book with a bright red apple on the front. His heart was heavy now, not expecting anything good, but there! On the first page! The word for ant, and then below it was a picture of an ant! And on page three, the word for cat!

And, Jack noticed, the first part of the word for ant was written next to it, on the other side of some other squiggles. The same was true of cat. And all the other words for the other pictures were the same. He supposed the brightly coloured word was what the picture was.

It was, he realized, a book of letters.

The winter spirit returned the next night, clutching a ragged bag full of change from countries all around the world. He carefully counted out $2, left it on the counter, snatched the book and raced back to his lake, ready to study it in depth.

By the end of the week, Jack could write Ant, Ball, Cat, Dog, Eye, Fork, Giraffe, Horse, Igloo, Jelly, King, Lion, Moon, Net, Octopus (he had no idea what that was), Pants, Queen, Rat, Snake, Tree, Umbrella, Volcano, Watch, Xylophone (or this), Zebra, Pen and Desk. He also knew the lowercase alphabet, **and** he had managed to work out (read!) that the squiggles between the letter and the word said 'is for.' He was proud.

Jack returned to the bookstore with another $2, and bought the book about the little girl. It wasn't as interesting as he had hoped. He bought the book about the animals in the zoo, and that was better, but still quite dull. He stored away both books in his cave, along with all the other stuff he had collected over the years, and decided to try something a bit more grown up. He returned to the bookstore and made his way past the letter books to books aimed for kids aged 4-8, where he found a book of numbers.

He left another $2, but after about a week of studying the book he learned that he had been far too generous with the amounts he was leaving. Unfortunately, he now wasn't quite sure how far over he had paid, and began to wish that he had stayed for the mathematics lessons too. Instead, he went to the store and helped himself to three more books, guessing that was about right.

One was a maths book, one a book on spelling and grammar rules, and one a science textbook. He stored them in the cave along with his other belongings, behind a sheet of ice to stop them getting damaged by water. Winter was arriving in the northern hemisphere, and he would be busy for the next three months, but after that he'd be able to study them at his leisure. In the meantime, he would keep an eye out for loose change on the ground: he now had something good to spend it on.


	24. Birthday pranks- Sandy

**So, I rewatched the movie, and it occurred to me just how much of a little shit Sandy was. You can see it in his eyes! They think Jack is the prankster, but I'm pretty sure Sandy would be worse. With that in mind, I decided to try this.**

**However, with that I think I should say that, lest I get hit by some brilliant bolt of inspiration, this will probably be the last prank chapter I do, because they never turn out how I want them to. Comedy and Romance are just two genres that my writing flounders in, so the rest shall be comfort/family/angst/theGaiathinginapproxiamtely27 chapters.**

* * *

In the beginning, when Pitch had only just been defeated for the first time and the guardians were still very close, birthdays were a big deal. The night before someone's birthday, all the guardians would stay over at the North Pole. They'd have drinks and celebrate late into the night, and then the next morning the birthday spirit would wake up to find a large pile of presents at the foot of their bed, followed by cake for breakfast (sugar free when it was Tooth's birthday).

But, as years passed, they began to run out of ideas to get for each other. Eventually, they agreed to stop, and tried to come up with something else to do for birthdays. Several suggestions were bandied around, but they all agreed that they rather liked the idea of playing pranks on a person in the week running up to their birthday.

As they drifted apart and retired into their own castles, birthday pranks were forgotten. The guardians were too busy bringing joy to children to take time out of their work for such silly trivialities. However, once a certain mischief loving winter spirit joined the group, that opinion was no longer valid.

* * *

"Hey, North?" asked Jack, looking up from the corner where he sat surrounded by old books. He had been reading the summaries of those meeting from hundreds of years ago and something had caught his eye.

"What is it, Jack?"

"What does this mean- '_Birthdays are no longer presents, but now pranks_'?"

"Oh, that; we used to not give each other gifts for birthdays, but instead play tricks."

"Why don't you do that any more?"

"I do not know; I suppose we just move on."

"Can we bring it back?" North shifted uncomfortably.

"I am not thinking that is such good idea."

"Afraid I'll get you?"

"What?!" The Cossack roared. "You? Get me? HA! If anyone is getting anyone, it is I who shall be getting you!"

* * *

"Absolutely not," declared Bunny when Jack brought it up at the next meeting. "Nu-uh. No way are we going to have any situation which allows **you**" he pointed at Jack in annoyance, "to prank me. No."

"What's the matter, Kangaroo? Afraid?" Bunny whipped around.

"The only thing I'm afraid of is how much yeh'll cry when I completely wipe the floor with yeh!" Jack smirked.

"Is that a challenge, cottontail?"

"Yeh bet it is, mate."

"I can see exactly what he's doing," Tooth whispered to Sandy while Jack and Bunny continued to goad each other. "Jack certainly knows how to get what he wants." Sandy nodded, smirking. "Shall we go with it? It could be fun." Sandy nodded again, schemes already forming in his creative mind.

* * *

They soon learned that Sandy had a very unfair advantage when it came to pranks.

* * *

Bunny's birthday was first after the agreement.

He didn't realise something was wrong when he first woke up. He didn't realise it as he was eating breakfast. In fact, it wasn't until exactly half an hour after he opened his eyes that he even realised he'd been pranked at all, when the calm peace of the warren was ripped apart by the screeching of an alarm clock. Bunny groaned, and hunted it out before turning it off.

"Genius!" he called to whoever it was he could still smell hiding in the warren. "Absolutely inspired! A masterpiece! Was it you, North? Tooth? Jack would'a thought'a something better, and Sandy-" he stopped as Sandy rose from the bushes, gave a cheery little wave, and flew off. A memory of shaved yetis flashed through Bunny's head. "Oh, no..." muttered the Pooka.

It took him eight days to find all the alarm clocks, set to go off at random intervals. Every time he thought he'd got them all another one went off. By the end of that time he had deep bags underneath his eyes, and was twitching randomly. He cursed the smallest guardian, and muttered about how it wasn't funny in the slightest, it was an awful prank, it was just plain annoying, etc. Jack fell over laughing when he found out.

* * *

Tooth was next, her birthday falling in early September.

The moment she awoke she knew something was wrong. First of all, she'd been asleep: that in itself was a rare enough occurrence. Secondly, she couldn't hear the thrumming buzz of her hundreds of fairies doing their jobs. Thirdly, she was covered in... was this honey?

She emerged from her bedroom to see the floor of her palace covered in fairies, all drenched with the viscous substance. Their wings were gummed to their backs, and none of them could fly. Sandy leaned against a pillar, casually throwing and catching a ball in one hand as he smugly surveyed the scene. The fairies on the ground crawled along limply, making a sticky _snap_ every time they raised a hand from the floor.

"Sandy!" Tooth screeched. "This isn't funny! Do you know how long it takes to get honey out of feathers? Do you know how many believers I'm going to lose because of you?" Sandy raised a finger, and then indicated the ball, which she now realized wasn't a ball but one of North's snow globes. With a tinkling crash he smashed it against the ground, and through the portal swarmed hundreds of elves.

The fairies were licked clean within minutes, much to their revulsion, and Sandy fled with Tooth's threats for revenge hot on his heels.

* * *

Third was Jack, on the winter solstice. After the fiasco that had been his first birthday with guardians, they were more than happy to be doing something that had been his idea in the first place.

Jack woke up slowly, his mind still thick with sleep. Blinking blearily, the first thing he realized was that his wrists and ankles were tied. That was strange, and worrying enough to make him wake up a bit more. Shaking his head, he looked around him. He wasn't in his room in Santoff Clausen- which he was sure was where he went to sleep- but in Burgess, and standing perhaps ten metres away was a large gaggle of children. Well, naturally: Burgess was still his biggest source of believers, even if most of the original children had long since forgotten.

"Morning, sleepyhead," laughed Jamie. At sixteen, he was the oldest believer, towering over the other children. Next to him stood Sophie, who was grinning widely. Why was she-

Jack looked down and found himself in a dress. Again. This one was royal blue, with deep purple spots dotted over and a matching sash tied tight around his waist.

"Thanks, Soph," he called.

"You look beautiful!" She called back. Jamie sniggered, and something caught Jack's eye. Next to the group of kids was a very large- **very** large- pile of snowballs. And next to it was- what were those?

"Mind telling me what's going on?" he asked, beginning to feel slightly concerned. As he said this, Sandy floated down in front of him, clutching a sign. "Ah; I might've known it was you. What's the sign say?" Sandy turned it around so that Jack could read it.

Painted in lime green letters over a lilac background were the words 'ROLL UP, ROLL UP! PELT THE WINTER SPRITE! CHOICE OF SNOWBALLS OR-' ah. The other something was rotten tomatoes. Sandy smirked, and grabbed something behind Jack.

The wheel it turned out he was tied to began to spin as the children cheered and started to pelt him.

"Sandy-" he gasped as his head came up. "I'm. Going. To. Kill. You!" Sandy sniggered as Jack turned a delightful shade of green, clashing horribly with his dress. The guardian of dreams gave him a mocking salute, and vanished. Bunny fell over laughing when he found out.

* * *

North's birthday was only a few days after Jack's, but they agreed to wait until after Christmas was over before they got him

He woke up with a sense of dread. The expressions had been far too conspiring at the meeting the day before, and opening his bedroom door greeted him with an extremely unwelcome sight.

The yetis were nowhere to be found. The elves were all taped to the roof with duct tape, clutching foghorns with manic grins. And covering the floor of Santoff Clausen were thousands upon thousands of plastic cups, each filled with grape soda. Not a single foot was left clear, and the Cossack groaned: it would take weeks to clear this up! And how on earth was he meant to get all the elves down from the ceiling? Unlike some of the other guardians, he couldn't fly!

"Sandy..." he growled. One of the elves set off its foghorn, making him jump and knock over the some of the cups. He swore and bent to pick them up, only to jump again as another foghorn went off. He fell face first into at least a dozen, staining his favourite silk pyjamas. "You know what? Forget it!" he roared, and marched through the halls, not caring how many glasses he knocked over. "And where are yetis?!" Elves began to rain like bombshells as they worked their way loose from the bonds, and immediately began eagerly drinking all the grape juice they could lay their hands on. North groaned.

(It later turned out that the yetis were fast asleep in one of Santoff Clausen's basements, blissfully ignorant of the events occurring above).

* * *

Sandy's birthday was last, and though he thought he was prepared for everything, he wasn't prepared for Jack freezing his feet to the floor and his hands to the wall of his dream sand ship.

"Got him guys!" The winter spirit crowed. Bunny, North and Tooth stepped out the shadows, smiling sinisterly.

"You're in trouble now, mate," murmured Bunny, and they got to work.

Several hours later they stepped back to admire their work. North had wrapped every single piece of furniture and other objects in wrapping paper, including all the food inside the fridge and the fridge itself. Tooth and Jack split the rooms between them, Jack turning half the rooms into a winter wonderland while Tooth filled the rest with- were those _ladybugs?!_

Bunny pulled out a number of bottles of brightly coloured dye and spent a good few hours simply _painting_ the little golden man. By the end, he had a belt made of bright red love hearts and a villainous moustache and goatee combo. He had acid green glasses and a large mole above his mouth. On his feet were painted red and white stripy socks, and a butterfly tramp stamp was in the small of his back. The moment the other guardians got a look at him, they collapsed into hysterics.

"What are you saying, Sandy?" asked North as the little man angrily flashed symbols at them. "Oh. Bunny, is dye water soluble?"

"Not on your nelly!" cackled the Pooka. 'Steam' puffed out of the originally golden man's ears as he flashed more symbols.

"Oh," North paused, and then broke down further.

"What is it?" gasped Jack, tears of mirth freezing on his cheeks.

"Sand absorbs dye!"

"So?" Bunny, who had frozen, eyes widening in glee, was the one to answer.

"It won't come off: ah basically just tattooed 'im!"


	25. Not with what he'd seen

**Sorry about the wait, but intercontinental travel can really take it out of you!**

**After my (failed) foray into humour last week, I've decided to stick to what I'm good at and give you something depressing. I've had a lot of practice recently- my other fic, Abandoned in Antarctica, is about as jolly as dead kittens.**

**Trigger Warning: Pretty much everything in this chappie, excluding eating disorders.**

* * *

Jack was the youngest guardian in every sense of the word: he had been a guardian for the least amount of time; he had been an immortal for the least amount of time; and he had been alive for the least amount of time before he became an immortal. He had died three months before his sixteenth birthday, and they often treated him as the baby of the family.

He didn't mind it, really: it was nice to have someone worry about you, check up on you, ask about your week. It was nice to have people who cared. So, when the guardians took it upon themselves to explain some of the darker ways of the world, Jack never stepped in. Never told them that he already knew.

Jack was not naive- not with what he'd seen.

* * *

"Absolute disgrace, that's what they are," growled Bunny, scowling at the drunkards collapsed on the street in front of them. The Pooka had agreed to show Jack different types of magical plant and teach him their properties (on the condition that he didn't freeze them); because of the flowers blocking their magic, they found themselves walking down a random street in Seattle at three in the morning. "Ah'd forgotten it's St. Paddy's day; all the Americans think they can get drunk like the Irish!"

"Well, that's working out well," Jack snorted, watching a woman in a very short dress and very high shoes start singing a song from Cabaret from where she hung over the railings. Bunny suddenly stopped, and looked Jack straight in the eyes.

"Jack, mate; people drink because it makes them feel good, but it's bad for yeh, it really is, and yeh don't feel good when yeh wake up in the morning; some people drink when they're upset, to forget why they're upset, but that's not good either. Alcohol is never the answer, okay?" Jack shrugged.

"Sure."

Jack was not naive- not with what he'd seen.

After twenty years, Jack felt that he should have been starting to get the hang of it. It shouldn't have been so hard, so why did he keep messing it up. He made it snow when it was meant to be raining, and put down frost in the middle of summer (Once! Once! Those summer sprites needed to get over themselves!), and he was pretty sure the groundhog (who he had met two years ago, and who was always grumpy) was lying to him about when winter ended.

So when Herbst and Breeze flew down to tell him that he'd overstayed his welcome, he really wasn't all that surprised. Besides the groundhog, they were the only immortals he saw on a semi-regular basis (once a year counted as semi-regularly, right?). He was surprised, however, to leave the conversation with two black eyes, and a broken nose.

It hurt. More than the physical pain, it hurt to know that the few people who could see him either ignored him (North) or hated his guts (Herbst, Breeze, the groundhog, Bunnymund). So when he heard a innkeeper calling for people to come and 'forget your worries! Forget your cares!' with his mead, the boy could be forgiven for being intrigued. He'd heard the mortals call this practice 'drowning your sorrows,' and well he doesn't much like the thought of drowning, it would be good to forget.

So that evening Jack slipped into the inn, and floated around taking sips from people's flagons when they weren't looking. The mead was warm, and slightly spicy, and soon Jack was feeling better than he had in months. He sang along with the men's drinking songs, and when one left half a tankard behind after heading home, he grabbed it and drank deeply with the rest of them. He was small and skinny, and- as it transpired- a lightweight; soon the winter spirit was very, very drunk.

It was the best night he could remember having, but all too soon it was over. He collapsed in a snow bank a little way away from the inn- despite it being nearly summer in most places, he was in Norway, where snow still covered the north- just as the dawn sun peeked over the horizon, and a few hours later the valley echoed with the sound of his groaning: Jack had discovered what a hangover was.

* * *

"Look! A lateral incisor! Isn't it perfect?!" Jack grinned at Tooth's enthusiasm as they flitted across London. He loved coming out into the field with her: she was so busy that it was one of the only times they really got a chance to talk without Bunny and the others around. He loved them as a group, but it was nice spending time with them individually too.

The winter spirit gave a startled (but, as he'd argue later, very masculine) yelp when he glanced in the window they were hovering next to and saw a sagging and haunted face just inches away from him on the other side.

"Oh," said Tooth, drooping slightly when she noticed what had startled him. "Don't look at him, Jack."

"But I-"

"No, don't: he's a druggie, probably takes cocaine or crystal meth or something like that. He's addicted, and by the end of his considerably shortened life that's where all his money will have gone, so don't look, and don't ever, ever even think about doing drugs. Okay?"

"Okay."

Jack was not naive- not with what he'd seen.

"Why do you do this to yourself?!" he screamed, watching the girl in the corner tremble and shake. If he were a mortal, she'd only be a few years older than him, about twenty, but with a face aged far beyond her years. "Why? You have it all! How can you just give it up?"

There's no reply, not that he really expected one, but he was angry and he was upset and he felt like he had every right to be. It was thanksgiving, 1975, and pretty much every other person in America was at home with their families, sharing a veritable feast. The next few days would make for great scavenging, but Jack wasn't concerned with that right now.

The winter spirit dropped to his knees, feeling tears well up in his eyes as the girl's wasted fingers scrabbled at the tiled floor beneath them, trying to find purchase.

"I used to play with you," he said softly, watching her writhe. "I know you couldn't see me, but you were always so happy. Look at you now." Saltwater droplets froze to his cheeks as his voice cracked. "Your family loved you. Loves you still. That's what they do, families- they love each other no matter what." Her body began to spasm, eyes fluttering between open and shut. "Do you know what I would give for a family? What I would give to be able to walk down the street and have someone bump into me? I would give up an immortal life for a week of what you're blessed with." Suddenly her entire body clenched, and she threw up, putrid vomit spilling down her front. "And yet you throw it away for the next sniff of powder. You've got no friends, you've got no money, you've got no future... and I still wish I was you." Her back arched, throat gurgling. "You have a mother, a father, a brother, grandparents and aunts and uncles, and all of them love you. Me? I've got a rabbit who comes every few years to complain at me and some extremely powerful spirits who want me dead because... well, I don't know why. The closest thing I have to a friend is a man I see every two decades or so." She slumped down again, sobbing softly as her hands tore weakly at her hair. "I would help you, you know? If I could. But I'd just go straight through you, like I do with everyone." With one last, rattling gasp, she was still. "Happy thanksgiving," he muttered, flying away before his face had a chance to crumple.

* * *

North found Jack where he had found him after Sandy's death, on the same windowsill with his hood up, frosting patterns on the glass. They were all in shock, all reeling from another school shooting. This one was in Scotland, in a large prep school in the middle of Edinburgh. Eighteen kids were killed, including fifteen believers. Eighteen candles had been laid out, the elves had chimed their funeral toll, and now each one was trying to recover however they could.

"Jack," the Russian said gently, putting a meaty hand on Jack's lean shoulder. "It is awful; absolutely devastating. But we must remember- there will always be evil in the world, with people even worse than Pitch doing bad for no other reason than because they can. That is why we are here- to help the children get through these dark times. To protect their innocence. It is tragedy, but it is why we exist." Jack nodded.

"I understand."

Jack was not naive- not with what he'd seen.

He was up in the air, grinning widely as all around him as a snow storm swirled and howled. It felt great. Gaia had ordered this storm, a massive storm right across Europe, and since it was right in the middle of January he didn't have to worry about anyone getting angry.

Deciding the storm was strong enough to rage on its own for a while, Jack dropped down to shoot over towns and villages, whooping gleefully. Who cared if the world was at war again? Who cared if just a few months earlier he had been wounded by shrapnel from a bomb in London? No one else, that was for sure. So why should he?

"Come on, everyone! Come play! You're welcome!" he cheered, whizzing through the busy streets. He paused just long enough to catch that he was in Poland- he was semi-fluent in the languages of all the cold countries. No Swahili, but he could tell the difference between Scottish and Irish Gaelic, French French, Canadian French and Belgian French, and knew every word for snow in every Inuit dialect.

"Up again!" he called to the wind. "Should I go to Germany first? Or maybe- what's that?"

He would admit it, he hadn't been to Poland in a while. Maybe a few years- a large number of water sprites on the continent meant that the snow and ice in Europe pretty much looked after themselves, and it was easy enough to send cold fronts from a distance. So it didn't surprise him to see that things had been built in his absence. The lack of surprise, however, did not automatically equate to lack of curiosity, and he swooped down to have a better look.

It was what looked like a camp, with two large metal gates at the entrance with the words **'Abends macht Frei'** worked along the top. Labour makes you free. Intrigued, Jack floated over to peer into the camp beyond.

What he saw horrified him: men and boys, shivering in small huddles, barely more than overalls and hats on to keep them warm. Ribs jutting out, collarbones jutting out, almost as skinny as he was, but they were mortal. Mortals shouldn't get that skinny, especially not in weather like this.

A little way away, he saw smoke, and wondered if there was a bonfire that people used to keep warm. Perhaps, he reasoned, they took it in turns- there had recently been a great depression, he knew that, so maybe they could only afford a small portion of the firewood needed. Making his way to the source of the smoke, he realized that it was not a bonfire but in fact two enormous chimney stacks- incinerators. The words ran through his head again, and he wondered what sort of work was done here. He wondered what they were burning.

A moment later he was scrambling away as fast as he could, forgetting to fly in his revulsion. He barely made it to the bush in time to empty his guts, and terrified tremors wracked his tiny frame. Bodies. They were burning bodies. Naked, shaved, emaciated humans, glassy eyes staring blankly at the winter storm above. Jack's work in Europe was done- he fled.

* * *

This time, somehow, Sandy found out what was going to happen beforehand, and when the bomb goes off in the mall in Ireland, the guardians are there to help in any way they can. There's not much they can do, as most of those inside were adults, but North and Sandy use their strength to move the collapsed beams and debris while Jack, Bunny and Tooth desperately try to battle the fire.

"Here!" Bunny suddenly yells: he's found a little girl, perhaps four or five, curled up in the debris. There's a large gash on her forehead, blood slowly seeping into her hair, and one of her arms is twisted at an unnatural angle.

"I can-" Jack begins, flying forward.

"Tooth, get her out of here!" Bunny orders, and Jack drops back, returning to fighting the blaze which makes him feel like he's about to melt. North and Sandy finally manage to clear the concrete that's blocking the doors, allowing the medics to burst in, and then suddenly the situation is in control and the guardians can leave.

"I'm sorry," says Bunny once they're safely back at the pole.

"For what?" Jack is puzzled- Bunny doesn't often apologize, and normally Tooth has to order him to first.

"For not letting you take that kid; it's just... well, we can only touch people who believe, even when they're unconscious, and it's more likely she'd believe in Tooth than in you; you understand, right?" Jack punches Bunny's arm and smiles.

"Yeah, I get it."

Jack was not naive- not with what he'd seen.

Russia was a great country- he loved it there. There was so much snow to give to them, so many lakes and rivers to freeze, so many fuzzy hats to knock off people's heads. It was a country where snow often reached higher than ten feet, and he loved it.

He was in rural Russia, adding a frosty top to the four feet of snow already on the ground to give it an extra '_crunch_' when people stepped into it. It was the mid-1800s, and he was tempted to go see the Tsar's palace- it seemed to get more opulent every time he visited!- when a soft sobbing caught his attention.

There, perhaps a mile into the forest, was a young man, perhaps 25, hunched over and shivering violently. He had no hat, no gloves, and nothing over his night clothes but a thin old coat. He was wearing summer boots that were no doubt already filled with slush, and he was clutching at what appeared to be a stab wound in the side of his chest. His clothes and the snow around him were already stained crimson. He was muttering half formed prayers under his breath, and as Jack stared in horror his heavy-lidded eyes drifted close.

"No," Jack begged, starting forward. He was either unconscious from hypothermia of blood loss, but in this weather it didn't matter- he would be dead by dawn, which was still hours away. "Stay awake, just stay awake." He reached out to shake him and his hand passed straight through with the usual stomach churning nothingness that came with being invisible.

The man twitched, and a small whimper of pain escaped his pursed lips. Jack willed himself not to cry as he stood up straight, preparing for what needed to be done.

"You're going to die anyway," he said, more for himself than the man, "and I don't want you to die in pain. It'll be over in a few minutes this way, okay? I'm doing this for you." He focussed all his energies on the man, and slowly, carefully began to lower his body temperature. Twenty degrees Celsius, fifteen degrees Celsius, ten degrees Celsius. Jack stopped at five and checked the man's pulse. Without another word, he left, _murderer_ echoing remorselessly through his head.

* * *

Since becoming a guardian, Jack had been visiting Burgess steadily less frequently. At first, he had practically lived there in winter, same as before. Every free moment of Jamie and the gang's was spent playing with Jack, and he'd loved it.

Then Monty stopped believing, followed by Pippa, the twins, Cupcake and finally Jamie. Only Sophie was left of the original bunch, and everyone knew that Bunny was her favourite. However, she still loved to see any of them, especially since they'd 'rescued' her from Pitch ("I think you probably made him cry, Soph!" "Most likely."). Burgess also still had the most believers of anywhere, because of stories that Jamie and the others had told the younger ones, so Jack still visited two or three times each winter, to catch up and to play.

This was his second visit of the winter, and Jack floated down in front of Sophie's window with a large grin on his face, ready to tell her all about how Bunny had tried to prank North but it had backfired _so badly_. This was forgotten as soon as he saw Sophie, now nineteen, curled up on her bed and crying her eyes out.

"Hey, Sophie," he said, sitting down next to her. "What's wrong?" She wordlessly handed him a scrap of newspaper, detailing the suicide of a local girl named Megan. "Oh, god, Sophie; I'm so sorry. She was your friend, wasn't she?"

"I just..." Sophie hiccupped, face red and splotchy as more tears cascaded down her cheeks. "I should have done something! I should have... I knew she was unhappy! I should have realised, I should have talked to her more, I should have-" She couldn't say anymore, clutching Jack as though he were a lifeline. He rocked her back and forth and made what he hoped were soothing noises, desperately trying to work out what to do.

"It's not your fault, Sophie," he said finally. "I know it feels like it is, but it isn't. You have to remember that. I'm going to open a portal, and then we're going to go and see Bunny, okay?" She nodded miserably, trying to wipe away the tears that refused to stop.

North had given Jack two magic snow globes that were, he had been warned, only for emergency use. Well, he certainly figured this counted as an emergency, and whisked her away to the warren. He decided to give them some time alone to talk through her feelings, and instead headed back to the pole to tell North and whoever else was there (possibly Sandy, who's practically moved in, and possibly Tooth, since hockey season has just finished in England and Canada).

"Oh, poor thing!" cooed Tooth as he finished relaying the story. "That's awful; you have to understand, Jack, that sometimes people just feel so sad, so out of control and _useless_, that hurting themselves or even death seems like a better option. It's why we try to give them the best childhood we can- so that hopefully this doesn't happen later on." He tugged his sleeves down and didn't say anything.

Jack was not naive- not with what he'd seen.

It had been a year since the culmination, as everyone now called it under hushed breaths and behind closed doors (in the case of those of them who actually had houses). No one had said anything to him, hell, no one had spoken to him except Pierre, who managed to hunt him down and talk to him for an hour about five months after it happened.

He was reminded of it every time he sees another spirit. He was reminded of it every time he bent over and felt the **K** carved into his back stretching his skin tight. He was reminded of it every time he looked at his right hand, where, in the face of his other injuries, he hadn't realised his pinkie was broken, and it had healed crooked. He knew that he should re-break it, but he didn't have it in him. It wasn't like pinkie fingers were that important anyway.

He was depressed; the world felt heavy and grey, and everything seemed like too much strain for him to handle. What was the point, anyway? No one would care if he was around or not- he might as well save himself all this suffering and die.

He knew that he wasn't the only one who felt this way- helpless. Useless. Hopeless. He'd seen them through the windows, normally teenagers, sometimes older, sometimes (horribly) younger. Seen them hunched over sinks, laying out in empty bath tubs, razor blade on one side, bloodied wrist on the other. Sometimes they were laughing, as though it were a relief. Sometimes they were crying, tears dripping down to mingle with the blood. They covered it with long sleeves and fragile lies, and would be back the next night to start again. It seemed to help.

What the hell, Jack thought: everyone else hurt him, he had the right to hurt himself if he so chose. He found a dollar's worth of change on the sidewalks, wondered if it wa enough, once again promised himself that he will one day learn to read, and left it on the counter of a petrol station after taking a pack of three razor blades.

Evening found him crouched on a branch, staring at the razor blade in trepidation. Half of him wanted to, wanted the relief it's meant to bring, wanted to just forget everything for a bit. The other half was screaming at him to stop, to stop and think about what he was doing, to stop and ask how bringing more pain was meant to make him feel better.

"_But I didn't do anything wrong."_

"_Of course you did; you're the winter spirit, that's all you can do."_

He brought the blade down.

The immortal child watched in fascination as the blood trickled down his wrist- shouldn't this hurt? Wasn't there meant to be pain? He didn't feel any. He felt... numb? Physically, yes. Physically, it was like no mark had been made on him. Mentally... mentally he felt better than he had in a long time. It was strange, but it was great, and he loved it. It was like flying, but different. Better.

He was there for the rest of the night, letting out his frustration and self hatred and anger and sorrow. Afterwards, he carefully wrapped the blades in a plastic bag, and put them in his cave where he kept all his other stuff.

He didn't take them out often. Once a year, sometimes twice. If it'd been a bad year, he'd do it every day for a month, before filling with disgust and abandoning them for half a decade.

After Bunnymund's abuse on Easter Sunday, 1968, he cut so much he collapsed from blood loss.

His stuff was lost the year before he joined the guardians- everything he owned, including the now rusty blades. It would have been easy enough to get some more- they're practically a dime a dozen. But he became a guardian, and he promised himself that it would stop.

"_It doesn't happen any more, then?"_

"_No."_

It hadn't been a lie; but Jack was not naive- not with what he'd seen.

* * *

**I don't want this to become a cutting fic, so unless I get requests I won't be saying anything more on the subject.**

**Prep school is 8-13 for all the non-Brits out there. The camp was Auschwitz for anyone who doesn't know, one of the largest concentration/death camps.**

**Reviews are very much loved and appreciated- I'm now at more than I've ever had for any of my other stories!**


	26. Jack's birthday

**Yeah, I am sorry about what I put you through yesterday, and I'm also sorry for the long wait I made you... wait. So here's a bit of family bonding time, and a finally fulfilled request from mint ink, who asked me nearly three months ago for a follow up to North's room. Yeah, sorry about taking so long, but I couldn't think what to write, and then all of a sudden it hit me! So here, please take this chapter of family fluff as my sincerest apologies for the mess that has been the last two chapters.**

* * *

"Hey, North!" North looked up as the winter spirit flew in through the window now left permanently open for him. Jack took once glance around at the workshop before a large grin split over his face. North suppressed a sigh- of course Jack would revel in this sheer and utter chaos.

His conscience chided him- perhaps Jack was just happy to be back at what North hoped was becoming his home. Perhaps Jack was beaming in excitement for his first Christmas as a guardian, despite North having told him that he stopped giving out gifts to the other guardians on Christmas 200 years ago, when they'd complained that they no longer had enough room for all the stuff. Perhaps he was just happy to see the toys being made for the children. Then he took another glance at Jack's expression, and even his conscious gave in- Jack was many things, and a mischievous trickster would always be one of them.

"Hello, Jack!" he replied, giving the child a quick hug before barking orders to a nearby yeti. "No time for talking, now, none at all-" he tripped on an elf and almost hit the ground, but managed to catch himself at the last moment "-GET OUT OF WAY! Try not to be keeping underfoot, da?" Jack gave him a cheery little salute, and was turning to go when North suddenly remembered. "Oh, Jack!" He thrust a lump covered in blue wrapping paper into the boy's hands.

"What's this?" said boy asked bemusedly. "I thought you only gave Christmas presents to strangers." North laughed, and clapped him on the shoulder.

"It is not for Christmas, it is for your birthday!" He paused when Jack went rigid, a cold look he rarely saw on the youngest guardian glinting in his eyes. "It is your birthday, yes?"

"It is," Jack replied, voice low. "How did you know?" Oh. Yes. Well, that might be a little difficult to explain... "North?" Jack's voice was as rigid as steel. "How. Did. You. Know?"

"Manny told me," the Cossack replied weakly. A dark eyebrow quirked up.

"Today?"

"No."

"Yesterday?"

"No."

"When?"

"When you were born," he admitted.

"Why?"

"He tells me when all new spirits are born."

"Why?"

"So that I can help them learn what to do and answer any questions they have." For a moment shock and hurt flashed across Jack's face, before the cold mask slid back into place.

"I see," he muttered, fists clenching the staff so tightly his knuckles turned white (well, whiter). "Goodnight, North."

"Jack, wait-" The Russian called, but the immortal child was already gone. North swore loudly in Russian, before turning to survey the workshop with something akin to panic in his eyes- every instinct was telling him to go after Jack, but he couldn't. It was three days until Christmas and he had work to do.

* * *

"Where's Jack?" asked Tooth. It was about the evening of December 25th, and Tooth, Bunny and Sandy had swung by to congratulate him on a Christmas well done. They now had more believers than they did before the whole Pitch incident, so they definitely felt that a celebration was in order.

The Cossack froze at the question, before walking to the nearest wall and beginning to hit his head against it repeatedly. The other three looked at each other in trepidation, before Bunny hopped forward.

"Uh, North? Mate? Where's Jack?" North wheeled around.

"I am idiot!" he cried. "I should never have told him! No! Forget lies, I should have made time for him! In the beginning, when Manny first asked me to!"

"What happened?" Tooth was anxious now, flitting towards the great Russian. He collapsed dramatically into a chair, and waved for two of the elves to bring him a plate of cookies. With a heavy sigh, he told them about Jack's birth, and how he had overlooked it because of Christmas.

"And now," he continued miserably, "I have just done the exact same thing all over again." He rested his face in a large, meaty hand. Tooth bit her lip and glanced over at Bunny for help. The Pooka shrugged, and both of them turned to Sandy, who rolled his eyes and floated down in front of North. An image of a present (Sandy's symbol for North) sprouted legs and walked towards a snowflake (Jack). The present drooped down sadly, and then they both hugged. "You want me to go and apologise?"

Bunny felt like face palming- it was completely and utterly obvious, and Sandy was the only one who thought of it. He saw Tooth flush, and was pleased to know he wasn't the only one to feel like an idiot. North's eyes widened, and a large grin split across his face.

"You are right! I will go and apologise! I will-" he trailed off sharply, shoulders drooping again. "How? How do I apologise for this?"

* * *

Jack felt sick. His stomach was churning, and his hands were shaking, and he just felt so _hurt_. Every spirit. North's job was to greet every spirit, but it was five years until he even saw the legend, and he'd never had a proper conversation with him before Pitch returned.

"Hey, Jack!" The winter spirit practically fell out of the tree he was brooding in. He had been so wrapped up in his thoughts he didn't even notice the child approaching. "I noticed it was snowing, so I came to find you!" Jack suppressed a sigh- the weather had a bad habit of reflecting his mood. "Is something wrong, Jack?"

The immortal child hesitated for a moment, considering telling Jamie that everything was fine, he just needed a quick nap and they could play later. But no. He wasn't going to lie to his first believer, and besides, the guardians had been trying to teach him to talk through his problems, rather than bottling them up.

"Yeah," he said, floating down to sit beside the ten year old. "Yeah, there is. Um..." He wasn't really sure how talking things out was supposed to go. "Has someone ever done something bad to you before you were friends... but you only found out once you were friends... and you're mad at them even though you weren't friends at the time?" Jamie frowned as he thought about it.

"Sorta... Cupcake punched me once, in second grade. She apologised for it a few months ago, and I said I don't mind. I mean, it hurt, but it was _two years ago_! There's no point keeping grudges that long, right?" Jack smirked as he thought of the Easter Kangaroo and his notorious grudge keeping.

"Right," he agreed. "So you forgave her? Just like that?"

"Well, it turned out she had a lot of other stuff going on." Jamie's voice dropped to a whisper. "Her parents are _divorced._"

Jack paused to think about that: he had seen how madly chaotic the workshop was, what with Christmas nearly there, and he had heard joking stories from the others about how stressed he could get (Tooth had told him about one time, he had gotten so frustrated with the elves that he exiled them for a month. Apparently they caused the great fire of London). And he was trying to make up for it- hell, he had gotten him a _present_!No one had ever given him a present before, at least not in this life.

"Thanks, Jamie," he said, getting to his feet. "I'll remember that. Now, go find the others and meet me in the park. We are going to have a snow war of _epic_ proportions!" Jamie grinned and dashed off, and Jack smiled at the hurried _you're welcome _he heard called over the child's shoulder. He had a few days to kill before he could go talk to North (the whole stressing about Christmas problem), so he might as well spend it with his favourite believers (it wasn't allowed, but he could admit he had favourites; in his defence, Bunny did too). First things first, though, he had a present to unwrap...

* * *

"How about this?" North tried again. "Jack- I know what I did was wrong, but you must forgive me. It was Christmas, and the year had been very bad, and I was just so tired. I did mean to go see you, but... but..." With a groan of frustration, he slumped back into the chair he had risen from. Tooth, Bunny and Sandy were draped over the other chairs in the drawing room, anxious fretting long having since faded to slightly concerned boredom as they watched North fail again and again at coming up with a good apology.

"Just face it, mate," Bunny called finally, "yeh messed up. Just tell him that. Say 'Jack, ah messed up and ah'm sorry.'" Tooth raised an eyebrow.

"Have you apologised for what happened at Easter yet?" The Pooka's glare would have quelled lesser spirits, but Tooth was a lot sturdier then she seemed. "Well, Bunnymund?"

"Hey North!" The cheerful greeting had them all shooting out of their chairs in shock. The youngest guardian floated through the window, in the blue flannel pyjamas that had been North's birthday gift to him (he supposed the Cossack had found out about him just crashing in his normal clothes). "Well done with Christmas! I hear that-" Whatever he had been about to say next was cut off as the Russian crushed him in a large bear hug.

"Jack!" he cried. "I just... I tried... I..."

"Easy there, North," Jack grinned, wriggling free before any of his ribs snapped. "Don't worry, I'm not mad at you; it was just a bit of a shock, that's all."

"But I-"

"Not another word. I don't want to hear it. No asking for forgiveness, there's nothing to forgive. Next time I die, I'll try and do it after Christmas. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go and put my present from Jamie in my room." His grin widened, and he held up a gift bag with three posters and a dozen CDs in them, all from bands with names like 'Queen' and 'The Rolling Stones.' He turned and left, missing how the guardians had frozen at his words.

"Next... time... he... dies?" Tooth finally choked out. They stared at each other with wide eyes before Bunny stuck his hand up.

"Shotgun not asking!"


	27. Break ins

**Hey, peeps! How's it going? I got hit by a brick wall of writer's block, but I wanted to give you something, so please accept my slightly-shorter-than-usual-by-oh-about-1000-words chapter. I feel like Phil and Baby Tooth have been very neglected in this story, something I intend to rectify, starting with Phil! Enjoy, and as ever, please review!**

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It had been about two weeks since the battle against Pitch, and North had not seen the others since- Tooth and Sandy were working hard to restore the believers, Bunny was cleaning away the wreckage of his smashed eggs from the Warren, and Jack was spending as much time as possible with Jamie and the other Burgess believers.

North had already begun toy production, but it was still very early in the year, and Christmas was not for months. He could admit, he did have an advantage over Bunny- toys would not go off if left too long. With this in mind, he called in his yeti head of security- they needed to have a chat.

"So... Phil?" The yeti shrugged at the name the winter spirit had given him, and North decided to just go with it. "He has been trying to get into the workshop for years?" 'Phil' hesitated, before nodding resignedly. "Why did you not just let him in, send him to talk to me?"

The yeti sat up indignantly, and garbled back that when he first got the job North had told him expressly that no children were ever, **ever **to be allowed into the workshop, **ever**, under any conditions, no matter what, not unless they were dying or Pitch was outside.

"But he is immortal child," answered the Cossack. "He is clearly exception; why are you not seeing this?" Phil growled in frustration, and repeated **ever, under any conditions**. "Well, how did he try to get in?"

He was told about the first time, when Jack had simply opened the front door and walked in; the spirit made it all of six meters before hitting the wall of fluff that was the yeti. A ripple of guilt ran through North as Phil told him about how excited the boy was to be seen. The yeti had tried to explain that he wasn't allowed in, before shooing him back into the snow and shutting the door.

It was less than a week before Jack's next attempt, which involved quietly slipping in through a window that the elves left open. That time he'd managed to get into the corridor before he was discovered. Phil wasn't impressed, and Jack found himself thrown into a snow bank.

Further attempts included crawling down the chimneys, wriggling through the elf-flaps in the courtyard doors, and he had even once befriended the reindeer and had tried to sneak in by clinging to its belly when it returned, Odysseus style. North roared with laughter at the thought of Jack, gripping like a baby monkey.

"Which reindeer was it?" he asked, and found out it was Rudolph. Something about the once outcast reindeer being able to sympathise with being alone. This quieted North's laughter, and brought a more sombre tone to the room.

Something Phil had said, about Jack being able to fit through the elf flaps, gave North pause: it felt off somehow, and he was trying to settle on why when said yeti sneezed, snapping him back to the present moment. Previous misgivings forgotten, the Cossack grinned at a sudden idea.

"Do you like Jack?" he asked. Phil garbled about frozen elves and icy hallways, and how just being around him was a risk to everyone's health, and now that he was a guardian some of the other yetis had been asking for a pay rise (though North had no idea why- they never left the Pole, what would they spend the money on?), and prolonged exposure to the immortal child would cause his fur to go grey, but apart from that he liked him well enough, thought he seemed like a sweet kid, definitely had done a good job as a guardian, why?

"Well," North resettled himself in his chair, "now that he is guardian, he should not be alone so much anymore. And, because he lives by lake, no house, nothing, I am thinking it would be a good idea to invite him to live with us!"

Phil paused and then groaned, exaggeratedly dragging one hand down in his face. After much fuss that North could tell he didn't mean, the yeti gave in, with the warning that if the workshop was destroyed by Christmas, he (Phil) was blameless.

"Good!" North rose and stretched. "I will tell him at next meeting, two weeks from now! In meantime, you find a bedroom for the boy. Something simple, but big, with big windows too! Very big windows! He is elemental after all, likes the outside, and since outside here is always snowy, he will LOVE it!"

Phil groaned again, nodded, and headed out, a small smile playing on his lips. Despite his protests, he did like Jack, and was glad the boy would finally have a proper home. He hadn't mentioned to North how guilty he'd felt, throwing him out time after time. He'd also tactfully left out how once, after yet another failed invasion, Phil had offered to fetch North. Jack's eyes had darkened to cobalt, and he'd left on his own after an angrily muttered

"He doesn't want to see me." After that it had been thirty years before his next attempted break in, and Phil had never brought up North again.

So it would be good to see the boy with a proper home, and hopefully a proper family too, if the guardians could just get their act together. Phil was happy for the boy.

It would also be good to finally have the chance at payback, after a bucket of snow balanced on a doorway eighty odd years before.

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**One more thing- I now have more favourites than followers! I don't quite understand how that works, but I love all of you, and thank you for all the alerts!**


	28. Convincing non-believers

**Hooray for fast updates! Another short one, which I apologise for, but I just couldn't seem to make it any longer without rambling off on a tangent. The beginning of this is a bit more introspective (I'm not sure if that's quite the right word, but I'm going with it) than usual, but hopefully that's not a problem.**

**Read, enjoy, and please review!**

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"Okay, look: you and I are obviously at what they call a crossroads. So, here's what's gonna happen: if it wasn't a dream, and if you are real, then you have to prove it. Like, right now."

The winter spirit peered in the window at the young boy sprawled across the bed, who was staring at his stuffed rabbit with a desperate earnestness. Jack's heart sank as he realised that Jamie was asking for the one thing he couldn't give: solid, tangible proof. He had been trying for the last three hundred years, and had never managed to convince anyone that he was real. He didn't know how the others had done it- perhaps Mim had given them some help? Regardless, there was nothing he could do except watch Jamie's belief dwindle and fade.

"I've believed in you for a long time, okay? Like, my whole life in fact. So you kind of owe me now; you don't have to do much. Just a little sign so I know. Anything; anything at all."

The small, spiteful part of Jack that he'd always tried to ignore was having a field day right then. The niggling voice that reminded him that he was useless, that no one believed in him, that he was nothing more than a punching bag for the other spirits, was crowing in victory. It reminded him of how North ignored him, how Bunny treated him, how even Sandy never had time for him. Pointed out Tooth had had his memories all along, and had never bothered to find them, to give them to him. Told him that, with the guardians gone, there would be a nice little niche of belief that a certain winter spirit could fill quite comfortably.

But then the other part of him spoke up; this was the part that had looked into his sister's eyes and had known that, no matter what, he had to save her. The part that had tried to help Baby Tooth keep warm even when his very soul ached from the snapping of his staff. The good part of him, which remembered the goodness in the other guardians.

_When someone needs to remember what's important... we help them._

___There will be springtime in every continent, and I'm bringing hope with me!_

_This wonder is what I put into the world._

And yes, they had mistreated him, but yes, he had messed up. Just like he had messed up that day on the ice, when he hadn't checked to make sure it was thick enough. Then, he had found a way to make things right, even though it meant sacrificing himself.

"I knew it," Jamie muttered, dropping the rabbit toy. Jack hesitated, before slipping into the room. The expression on the young boy's face was heart wrenching, and no matter what that little devil in his mind screamed, he knew, right through to his very core, right to his _centre_, that the guardians did not deserve to die. It was his fault they were in this mess, and he'd be damned if he didn't do his best to fix it!

He was Jack Frost- not even a myth, he was nothing more than an expression. He didn't bring kids hope, wonder, dreams, help them remember what really mattered. He was nobody. They weren't. They brought joy to children. They were legends for a reason. And it would be a lot easier to convince Jamie that a legend existed than a _nobody_. With that in mind, Jack leaned forward and frosted up the window.

Jack had never been to kindergarten, and so had never become adept at that oh-so-important skill known as 'finger painting.' Nevertheless, his crudely drawn Easter egg and cartoon rabbit seemed enough for Jamie.

"They're real," he murmured, face lighting up in amazement and joy. However, the winter spirit wasn't done yet.

He had never told anyone about his ability to bring the frost to life. He hardly ever used it- though pretty, the projections were fleeting, and no better company than his collection of sculptures in Antarctica. The idea of showing it to a mortal had never even occurred to him, but now he laughed as Jamie delightedly chased it around the room. Laughed, because Pitch was _wrong_: he may mess up sometimes, but he could fix it. He could make it right, and it didn't matter that no one believed in him, because he had saved the guardians, and in the end that was what mattered.

Then the rabbit exploded in a cloud of snow, and Jack froze as still as one of his sculptures when he heard Jamie wonderingly whisper

"Snow? Jack Frost."

* * *

"Hey, mate... Tooth just wanted- ow! Okay, okay, _I_ just wanted to say... well... uh... thanks. For, yeh know, getting Jamie to believe in us and everything." Jack grinned.

"I'm sorry, Kangaroo, I didn't quite catch that: what did you just say?"

"Ah, rack off yeh show pony! Yeh know damned well what I just said!"

"Bunny!"

"But, Tooth, he-"

"Hush, Bunnymund." Shockingly, Bunny shut his mouth, and Tooth turned to Jack, fingers twitching eagerly at the sight of his teeth. "How did you do it? How did you get Jamie to see you?"

The winter spirit found himself telling them about how Jamie had asked for a sign, and how he had created the frost rabbit to hop around his room. Bunny chuckled when he mentioned the snowflake that 'nipped' at Jamie's nose, but the immortal child wasn't even slightly annoyed, still too elated at the memories.

"It was strange," Jack mused; "For a moment, before he saw what I was doing, it looked like he really had given up. But he must have held on to his belief, otherwise you guys wouldn't be here!" Tooth smothered him in a massive hug.

"Oh, Jack! If it wasn't for _you_ we wouldn't be here. You saved us! And you got your first believer! I'm so _happy_ for you!"

"Thanks, Tooth," he replied, patting her awkwardly on the back. Bunny frowned to himself- the kid was completely unused to physical contact, something they would have to rectify. And by they he meant Tooth, North and Sandy. No way was he going to start giving out hugs. No chance.

"Bunny, come join the hug!"

"No way, Tooth, ah-"

"E. Aster Bunnymund!" Bunny groaned, and grudgingly draped one paw over Tooth's shoulder. The fairy responded by grabbing his fur and pulling him round so that somehow her tiny arms were wrapped around both of them, squeezing them to death. Jack was crushed in the middle, and he and Bunny shared bug-eyed expressions of helplessness generally caused by the near breakage of ribs.

"Uh, Tooth, we can't brea-"

"**Savour it**, Bunny."

That bloody show pony of a winter spirit had the nerve to laugh.


	29. Anything for you, little bit

**Sorry for the slow update, I'm still having trouble with writer's block. I decided to try doing a 5-1, but it ended up just being a 5 (you know, five times this happened and one time it didn't, that sort of thing). It's five times Jack protected Emma. I re-wrote this a good three times before I was happy with it, but I finally feel it's good.**

**On another note, HOLY BUDDHA IN A DIED PINK TURBAN! 196 reviews! You're all amazing! I love you guys so much, you have no idea! Please keep it up, reviews mean so much to me! I LOVE YOU!**

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Seven year old Jackson Overland stared into the crib, where the bright red and screaming baby desperately kicked against the swaddling clothes. The young boy frowned as he peered down uncertainly.

"Her name is Emma," his mother smiled. "She's your little sister."

"Like Mary?" The smile slipped slightly.

"Yes, like Mary." Jack was silent for a minute, studying his new sibling. Her fingers were tiny, as were her toes, and her face was a scrunched up mess as she noisily alerted the world to the fact that she was** not happy!** "She's a little bit..."

"Small?" supplied his father, eyes twinkling. "Loud? All babies are, Jack." Jack turned, frowning in annoyance as he crossed his arms.

"No. She's a little bit perfect."

* * *

Emma Overland was a year old, and was learning to toddle. She and Jack were playing on the grass outside the church as the congregation milled, taking the opportunity to catch up with each other. Mrs Overland was a little way away, talking to her sister, Jack's Aunt Agnes. Jack had been put in charge of Emma while they waited. He grinned, gently letting go of her hands as she took a few steps forward by herself. However, the grin dropped away when the little girl tumbled forward, hitting a rock and starting to cry. Jack rushed to her aid.

"Shh, little bit," he said gently, rocking her to and fro. He'd called her that since she was born, and whenever he was asked he simply replied that it was because she was a little bit. It didn't make sense to anyone else, but that didn't really matter to him. "It's okay, I got you, no need to cry."

"Look!" The two daughters of the Mr Williams, ten year old Phillipa and eight year old Jane, stared at Jack. It was Phillipa who had shrieked, and was now pointing at Jack, a nasty smile playing around her lips. "Jack's got a baby!"

"You look like a girl!" Taunted Jane. Jack stuck his tongue out, before smirking as he shouted back

"At least that makes one of us!" The Williams girls glared furiously, blushing red as the other children laughed.

"You'll be sorry for that!" screeched Phillipa, before grabbing Jane's hand and tugging her away. Jack just hugged his sister tighter.

"Don't listen to them. I'll do anything for you, little bit."

* * *

"Is there any more?" asked Emma, staring at the pot hopefully. The plates, which less than ten minutes before had held steaming piles of Irish stew, were now licked clean, the last dregs of gravy mopped up with the coarse bread that was all they could afford at the moment. Mrs Overland smiled a tight smile.

"No, Emma, there's not."

"But I'm hungry," she sniffled, blinking furiously to keep back tears. She was only five, and didn't yet understand that winter was a tough time. They simply couldn't afford to eat any more now, lest they starve in two weeks. Jack leapt to his feet and grabbed her hand.

"It's okay, little bit! You'll feel better after we go put the chickens to bed!" He was twelve years old, nearly thirteen, and had lived through enough winters to know that the best way to deal with the gnawing hunger in the belly was to simply ignore it.

Emma beamed beatifically, and slid off her chair, letting Jack lead her out to the barns. When they arrived, he looked around shiftily, and dropped to his knees in front of her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"You can't tell anyone about this, okay little bit?"

"Are you going to play a trick on me?"

"What, me? Do I look like I'd play tricks?" She nodded gravely. "Okay, yeah, you're right. But this isn't a trick: this is an important secret that will make you feel better. So, do you promise?"

"I promise." Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out his dinner roll, which he had slipped into his pocket during the meal. Emma's eyes widened in delight, and he smiled gently.

"Remember when we went for that walk last week?" She nodded. "Well, the wood elves saw you. They thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world, and when I told them that you've been hungry they felt awful. So, they decided to give you a lovely fresh roll every day for the rest of the winter. Does that sound good?" She nodded it again, and he passed her the roll. It was gone in seconds. "Feel better?" She wrapped her skinny arms around his neck.

"Yes. Tell them thank you for me?"

"Anything for you, little bit."

* * *

"What are you up to, little bit?" Six year old Emma Overland looked up in surprise, her lower lip quivering dangerously. Jack's signature grin dropped from his face and he knelt down before his distraught sister. "Hey, little bit; what's the matter?"

"Peter h-h-hit me, and he a-and David pushed me into a p-puddle!" she choked out, eyes swimming with unshed tears. "And they l-laughed at me, and they called me stupid, and Jane saw, and n-now she's telling the whole t-t-town!" Jack pulled his sister into a hug as she began to cry in earnest.

"Sh, it's okay little bit. I'll make sure they don't do anything like that again, okay?"

"Promise?"

"Promise."

The next day, Jack headed down to the clearing where he and his friends always met, expression thunderous.

"Uh, Jack, are yeh all right?" asked Will O'Reilly. Jack ignored him and marched straight over to David and Peter.

"You think you're real clever, picking on a little girl, don't you?" David at least had the grace to look apologetic, but Peter just rolled her eyes.

"Get over it, Jack; just because your little sister is a whiny, spoilt little-"

Jack came home that evening with a cut eye, a split lip and a very smug expression. Mrs Overland took one look at him, opened her mouth, decided she didn't want to know, and went back to cooking dinner. Emma was horrified.

"Jack! What happened to you?" He laughed, and scooped her into his arms.

"I ran into some ferocious trolls in the forest! They wanted to cook me and eat me for dinner, but I fought them off! When I beat them, they said I may ask a boon of them!" Emma's eyes widened.

"What did you ask for?"

"I asked them to take care of the boys who were bullying my little sister!"

"Did they?"

"Just look over in church tomorrow; you'll see just what a good job they did." Emma wriggled down, and grabbed a dried flower that she had carefully pressed the spring before.

"If you see them again, will you give them this? To say thank you!" Jack grinned and carefully pocketed the delicate bloom before reaching down to ruffle her hair.

"Anything for you, little bit."

* * *

"Mr O'Reilly offered to teach me my letters today." Mr Overland looked up sharply. Emma was seven, and Jack was fourteen, and they were sitting at the table with their parents. Emma ate steadily, but Jack ploughed his way through. His parents were hoping he would finally bulk out- at the moment he was as skinny as a rake. "If I spend an hour a week chopping firewood, then he say he'll spend an hour teaching me my letters."

"Oh? And what did you say?"

"I said I would think about it. Knowing my letters could be useful." Mr Overland nodded, considering it. "Pastor Jones said that it will help me with my bible studies; and I need to know them if I ever visit the city." Mrs Overland shook her head- Jack was always talking about visiting the city, going on about how big the building were and how grand it would be to ride in a carriage.

"When will you do your chores?" asked Mr Overland.

"It will just be an hour a week, pa, don't worry; I'll still get all my chores done." His mother smiled.

"So are you going to say yes, then?" He nodded.

"I think I will; it sound like it will be interesting, and I'm the only boy he's made the offer to- he told me that he didn't want to be teaching a big messy rabble. I'll go over and talk to him tomorrow." Emma looked up from the roast, her expression thoughtful.

"I'd love to learn my letters; then I would be able to write my own letters to St Nicholas, instead of Pastor Jones having to write them for me." Jack grinned across the table at her.

"Well, I can ask him if he'll teach you too."

"Really?!"

"Jack, I don't think that's a good idea," began his father. "You just said he only wanted to teach one person their letters; 'sides, she's a girl, she can't chop firewood, and I-"

"It can't hurt to ask!"

"Please, papa! Please!" Faced with the full force of their matching puppy-dog eyes, Mr Overland had no choice to relent."

"Very well; don't come crying to me if he says no, though."

The next day, Emma raced out to meet Jack as he returned from his visit.

"What did he say, what did he say?!"

"You're going to be learning your letters!" Emma squealed in excitement and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"We're going to be learning them together!" If Jack's smile slipped slightly then Emma didn't notice. He hugged her back.

"No, I'm going to be out back, chopping firewood." Emma hesitated, looking at him in confusion. "He showed me a book with the letters in, and I realised it was far too complicated for me. Besides, I love chopping firewood! It seemed like a much better thing to do!"

"So I get to learn my letters, and you get to chop firewood?" Jack nodded, and she squealed again. "Mr O'Reilly is so nice! Will you take me over to him to say thank you?"

"Anything for you, little bit."

* * *

"Come on, little bit! It's time for your lesson!"

"Don't call me that, Jack! I'm not a little bit any more!" Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? And what are you, then?"

"I'm a lady."

"You're a little one at that!"

"Jack!"

"Okay, then- come on, little _lady_, it's time for your lessons."

They walked slowly over to the O'Reilly house, Emma chattering all the while. Jack rolled his eyes to himself- _little lady_. Yeah, right. She was still his little bit.

An hour later she raced out, clutching her letter to Saint Nicholas. They walked down to the town hall, where the clerk promised to get it delivered as soon as possible.

"Mr O'Reilly gave me three slips of paper and a bottle of ink for Christmas, Jack, so that I can practice my letters on them instead of in the dirt!"

"Did he now? You can use them to write my Christmas list to St Nicholas, seeing as you're so sure I'm on the nice list."

"Not now! You promised you'd teach me how to skate!" Jack paused as she wriggled onto his shoulders, and then resumed walking.

"You know, I think I did. Maybe. But wait- do _little ladies_ go skating?" She cuffed his head.

"Yes, they do!" He held up his hands in surrender.

"Okay then, little lady; I suppose we should go get our skates. My old ones should fit you." They stopped by their house, where Jack managed to convince Emma to walk, and grabbed the skates.

"Be careful!" Mrs Overland called after them.

"We will," he grinned. After all, when was he ever not careful with Emma around? They got to the frozen lake, which was a fair way into the Burgess woods. Jack helped Emma get her skates on before turning to the pond. "Okay, give me a second little lady: I just need to make sure this is thick enough to skate on." He grabbed his staff, which Mr Overland had given him the month before, and strode onto the ice, banging it and listening to the echo.

"Aren't your feet cold?"

"A bit, but I didn't think to bring any shoes with me. Besides, I'll have my skates on in a-" he was cut off by a sickening crack.

"Jack!" He whipped around, and his heart froze when he saw the cracks in the ice beneath Emma's skates. He immediately crouched down as the ice beneath him began to crack too.

_Keep her calm. Keep her calm_.

He barely knew what he was saying as he tried to soothe her, desperately trying to come up with a plan to get them off.

"You're going to be just fine;" he suddenly alighted on an idea. "We're going to have a little fun instead." He showed her how to play, then watched with baited breath as she tried.

"One." The ice cracked more, and she looked up at him in fear. "Two. Three!" Just in reach! He hooked her with the end of his staff and flung her to the edge of the pond, the momentum carrying him to where she'd been standing.

_She's safe _he realized, and a grin lit up his face. Suddenly, the ice beneath him gave a final crack, and he dropped through to the frigid water below.

"Jack!" he heard her cry. He tried to struggle, to get back to the surface, but the cold was freezing his muscles. Darkness was creeping over him, but his lips twitched into something resembling a smile as one last though passed through his conscious.

_Anything for you, little bit_


	30. Possessions

**You! Yes, you! On the other side of the screen! Come closer. Closer!**

**Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is as follows:**

**1. Read chapter. Preferably enjoy it, though not mandatory, nor required for the success of this task (though I do hope you enjoy it)**

**2. Using a device known by the civilians as a 'mouse' or a 'touchpad,' click a box at the end of the chapter with the words 'type your review for this chapter here...' in it.**

**3. Attached to your equipment should be a device called a 'keyboard' (this may be built in if you are using a tablet or other, updated models of our technology). Tap your fingers in a specific pattern to leave behind a review (the pattern should come naturally to all those of you who received basic education).**

**Show your acceptance by commencing step one; good luck!**

* * *

He found it about three weeks after he first arose from the lake, hidden away in the side of a nearby hill. It was dark, but his staff glowed, so that wasn't a problem. It was cold, but he was the living embodiment of cold, so that wasn't a problem either. It was away from the villagers, and any other living beings- but it's not like they could see him anyway. Jack decided he rather liked it.

It was a cave, fairly deep, but with a small entrance, no bigger than a stop sign. Getting in required him dropping to his knees and crawling along for three or four metres, before it opened into a larger cavern. The walls and floor were smooth, grey and slightly clammy. Stalactites hung like icicles from the ceiling, and Jack hung his icicles up there with him. It was calm, it was quiet: it was somewhere he could reflect.

At first he only used it for that- calm, meditative reflection, and sleep, if the blizzard had been too strenuous. On the off chance he found more food than he needed- a rare occurrence indeed, but it happened occasionally- he would keep the excess there, behind a wall of ice to shelter it from the rain and the snow.

One day he found a little wooden soldier, dropped into a snow bank. It was painted cherry red, with a shock of white wool as hair, and a little tooth pick sword. The winter spirit found he rather liked it, and stood it up next to where he put the food, so that it could keep a vigil.

One day a little girl who was wandering through the woods lost a hair ribbon- he found it a few hours later, snagged on a branch. It was tied around the soldier's waist, a decorative sash of sorts, with the long ends trailing out behind it.

A box believed to be cursed by the church was thrown into the pond one summer, and Jack found it when he returned, water logged and rotting, the silver ornamentation still shining. It was placed next to the soldier and the ribbon, the blue glow of his staff casting bewitching reflections onto the walls.

The box slowly filled with buttons- plain wooden buttons from a child's coat, polished brass buttons for smart men who lived in nearby cities, buttons of gold filigree just thrown away by those who gambled away their sense for wealth. A medal, found on the body of a soldier who froze in the woods, the commendations written on it tantalisingly out of reach.

Next to the box was a crude wood carving, attempted by Jack one year in the mid-1800s, an old Bowie knife, dropped by a man who was killed by the bear he was hunting, an abandoned scarf found wrapped around a half melted snowman, a small, broken mirror given to a girl by a young man, thrown out when she scorned him, a cloth bag full of loose change from all around the world, a top hat, likely blown away by a particularly gusty wind, a rusted horseshoe from a muddy, country road, a bullet shell from amongst the dead leaves on the forest floor, a pack of three razors for reasons he didn't want to think about, a brooch, stolen from her mother by a little girl, who panicked and buried it when she thought she might be caught, and all manner of odds and ends alighted upon during his travels. Each one had a story, and when the nights were moonless, or the world felt too cold, even for him, Jack could wriggle into his cave and take comfort from his possessions.

Then he taught himself to read, and the cloth bag of change grew lighter as the amount of books increased. He'd kept the coins before because they were beautiful, dull and glinting, battered and new, with the faces of royals and leaders on the side. He valued them so much more than what they could buy- food could be scavenged from bins, but these were rare, these were precious, and he treated them as such. Not so once he could read- the comfort he took from books, the characters that became his family, was far greater than any comfort drawn from emotionless lumps of metal. He wondered what other comforts they could bring him, and decided to find out.

He bought a sketchbook, and with some charcoal scavenged from a fire he taught himself to draw, wide sweeping strokes of a snow speckled field, or neat, precise sketches of the children who couldn't see him back.

He bought a pack of cards, and in the strange months where it wasn't winter anywhere he could sit and play solitaire or memory cards, or a game of his own devising that was similar to Mah-jong.

He bought a cassette player, and some batteries, and some cassettes, and when the silence got too loud he could hum along to the Beatles, or listen to audio books as he tried to get to sleep and wonder if that was what it was like, having a mother to read him bedtime stories.

He bought two pillows and a blanket, something to make him more comfortable when he slept in Burgess. He didn't often get to decide when he slept- he would put it off and put it off until he ended up passing out in a snowdrift, or curled up on the branch of a tree. Still, it was nice to know it was there for him, should he choose to use it.

He bought snow globes from nearly everywhere in the world, and watched it snow on the little towns when it was too hot for him to make it snow there in reality. He bought a kaleidoscope and a compass, a box of magic tricks and a bike horn. As the world grew more modern, suddenly everything was available for a fraction of the cost it had once been. His pile of possessions grew, and one day he nailed a little sign to the wall- **Property of Mr Jackson Frost**. Stepping back to admire his handiwork, the winter spirit smiled to himself; he may just have had a home.

Then one day, almost exactly a year before Bunny found him, winter was reaching its end in Burgess. Jack was getting ready to move on to the southern hemisphere- he definitely didn't want any trouble with Breeze- but he had had to send a final flurry through Switzerland first.

When he returned he had eight Euros, fifteen euro cents ready for his coin bag, and a sad smile tugging at his lips. It was always a bit depressing, leaving his birthplace and the closest thing he had to a home for another year, but he had some ice sculptures in Antarctica that needed polishing, and an idea for another.

But the moment he reached the cave entrance he knew something was wrong. The acrid scent of smoke stung his nose, and burnt into the ground outside the cave was a single handprint- the calling card of the summer sprites.

Inside the cave walls were blackened with char, all which remained of three hundred years of collecting sitting in a small pile of ash and twisted metal on the ground. They had left a message, burnt into the stone- **You have nothing**. Jack felt the prick of tears stabbing at his eyelids, and he forced them back. A muffled choke escaped his throat as he fell to his knees. The money from France fell to the floor with a clatter- it didn't matter anymore. It was gone. All of it was gone.

No.

From the moment of his birth, Jack Frost had only ever owned three things- his staff, his clothes and his name. This stuff, it wasn't his; these were trinkets from the lives of others, stolen because they were pretty, but they didn't belong to him, and he certainly didn't care about them.

Not at all.

Not one bit.

He was the winter spirit: flighty, ethereal, nothing more than a ghostly laugh on a stiff December wind, a presence felt when the first snowflake settles. He didn't need something as anchoring as _possessions_ to bog him down. What would he care for gaudy baubles?

It was pathetic of the summer sprites, thinking that _this, _of all things, would upset him. They were getting old. Perhaps they thought him sentimental. Well, the joke was on them: he'd been meaning to clear out this old stuff anyway. They'd done him a favour.

He didn't need _anything._

So when North gave him a room and said he could move in all his stuff, he didn't feel a pang of sadness at his admission that he had none. And when he once again began to accumulate possessions, he wasn't constantly checking back in to make sure all his stuff was okay. And when he realised that yes, it would be safe, he didn't want to thank North with all his heart for finally giving him a constant in life.

Of course not.

Because those would be the acts of someone who cared.

And he didn't care at all.

* * *

**Step one complete. You know what to do.**


	31. The decennial party- part 1

**I have learnt my lesson- the best way to get reviews is to do order people to do so! It seems you're all soldiers on here :D**

**I wanted to update, but I'm currently on safari, and have been for the past week, so this is short, and incomplete. That said, I hope you like it- I've been meaning to do this for a while.**

**So, with that said: I COMMAND YOU TO READ, REVIEW AND ENJOY!**

* * *

Jack was many things, but a morning person was definitely not one of them. Of course, as a spirit he didn't really need to sleep that often- even less so since becoming a guardian- but that didn't stop him sleeping until past eleven every day of his off months.

So the fact that he had been woken up at- oh Mim, was it really only _nine?!_- was more than just displeasing, it was downright irritating. When he finally managed to stumble his way into the living room, he greeted the guardians with bleary eyes and stifled yawns rather than their actual names. Bunny rolled his eyes at this, but Tooth smiled fondly, and Sandy looked downright approving.

"Ah! Jack! You are here! Good!" Boomed North, missing Jack's muttered _says you_. "We can begin! We... Jack? Jack!"

"Sorry, what?" he gasped, startling out his trance. North raised an eyebrow, but turned to the oldest guardian.

"Sandy, let him go." Sandy pouted, but complied, and suddenly Jack was feeling wide awake. North nodded, and resumed.

"My fellow guardians: we have been shut off from others for far too long, too wrapped up in our work to pay attention to the world around us. But it was not always so! Which is why I am suggesting that this year, we restart the Guardians' Decennial Christmas Party!" he looked at them expectantly, as though they were about to break out in cheers. Instead, his ears were greeted with an unsure silence.

"Problem, mate," said Bunny finally. "Nobody likes us, remember?"

"That is why we are doing this! So that they will start to like us again! And we can talk to them! Besides, after incident with Gaia they have to come!"

"What about me and Sandy?" asked Tooth. "We can't just stop working."

"Of course you can! Tooth, you have fairies to help! Sandy, children can have dreamless sleep for one night, da?" Sandy hesitated before nodding, not looking too happy with the idea. "Good! Any other problems?"

"Um, North," muttered Jack. "I don't know if you remember but-"

"Then Christmas party is ON!" cried North, cutting him off. The winter spirit hesitated, before dropping it- North was clearly set on the idea, what point was there in bothering him?

* * *

That Christmas, when North was out delivering presents, Tooth, Jack and Bunny were in the Santoff Clausen ballroom, hanging up streamers and blowing up balloons (Sandy was needed to make sure the children actually fell asleep before Santa came). A few days before, Tooth had sent a group of mini fairies to deliver the invites, and the guest list currently stood at:

All spring pixies, summer sprites and autumn brownies, along with their respective seasonals, Cupid, the leprechaun, the groundhog (much to Bunny's displeasure), the water nymphs, the glen watchers (Jack had already had misgivings, but now he knew it would be a disaster), lava sprites, the volcano spirits, Jack O'Lantern, Baby New Year, Lady Luck and Lady Liberty, Father Time, the Norwegian elves, the burrowers, and many, many more.

The only other time Jack had ever seen so many immortals together was during that big fight two years before. The second closest time was the announcement that Herbst was celebrating his five hundredth birthday a little differently. The winter spirit felt he could be forgiven for wanting nothing more than to run and hide.

The worst part was that North and the others weren't listening. They had had their doubts at first, but now they were ready, excited even, and Jack's concerns were falling on deaf ears. They were so oblivious sometimes, and it made the immortal child want to scream. They didn't listen when he tried to explain why the Norwegian elves and the summer sprites hated each other, why having Cupid, the leprechaun, Lady Luck and Lady Liberty in the same room was a recipe for disaster, why having lava sprites near flammable decorations was going to go badly, why the glen watchers shouldn't come at all, why he didn't want to see Herbst and Breeze, and a thousand other problems that they didn't know about because they hadn't had one of the parties since the thirties!

It was like when they had first tried to make Jack become a guardian, and it had taken him freezing the ground and screaming "**enough!"** just to get them to pause. Only now, he was a guardian, and he didn't want to have to do that- he wanted his family to just listen to him.

And when he looked at the seating plan and saw who he was sat next to... he wanted to cry as well.

* * *

It was the evening of Boxing Day, and immortals were flocking to the poles in their dozens. Yetis with bowties carried around trays of drinks and appetisers, while a string quartet played to the side- the elves were many things, but bad at music was not one of them. In fact, some of them seemed borderline virtuoso.

Every party came with a theme, and this year was semi-formal. Jack had suggested sixties disco, but had- again- been ignored. North was in a bright red suit with a holly patterned tie, and Tooth was in a shimmering cocktail with slits cut in the back for her wings. Bunny had on a top hat and a dinner jacket, and Sandy had gone one step further- his glittering gold dinner jacket had tail coats, and white cuffs with gleaming gold cufflinks in the shape of dolphins. Jack was feeling immeasurably uncomfortable: after a long fought battle, he had been allowed to remain barefoot, but his normal clothes had been replaced with black skinny jeans and a deep blue velvet blazer with the guardian symbol embossed in silver on one side.

He snatched a handful of mini-quiches off one of the trays and retreated to the furthest corner of the room, watching the others greeting the guests from the doorway. He did not want to be here. He really, really did not want to be here.

The room slowly filled up, and it was just as Jack had expected- everyone was ignoring him. North and the leprechaun were deep in conversation, Baby New Year (who was actually a tanned Italian man in his twenties) was clearly flirting with Tooth, Sandy had Lady Luck on one arm and Lady Liberty on the other and was looking very pleased with himself, and Bunny was chatting with some of the spring pixies, crouching down so that they could see eye to eye. The only person who even looked at him was a glen watcher, who grinned toothily and asked

"Having fun, Jackie boy?"

He slumped miserably against the wall, trying not to make contact with anyone. It stung- not only that the others hadn't listened to his warnings, but also that they seemed to have conveniently forgotten that most of these immortals had beaten him at one point or another. What, did they expect them to just play nice?

"So, the guardians have put Mirage and Rika next to each other- I thought you were working to educate them." Jack jumped out of his skin before whipping around, finding himself face to face with the smiling and slightly concerned Pierre Soleil. The winter spirit grinned in relief.

"Pierre! Thank Mim you're here!"

"Only two years this time- I think that's a new record for us."

"It definitely is." There was an awkward pause, and they both shuffled their feet, unsure of what to say. Finally, Pierre raised an eyebrow.

"So- the summer sprite and the Álfar?"

"Yeah- I was trying to tell them, but they haven't really been listening." Pierre frowned in concern, and glanced around the room, dark eyes flashing.

"Is that why the glen watchers are here?"

"Yeah; it's also why Mirage and Rika are together, the leprechaun is next to Lady Liberty, and you've got a water nymph on one side of you and a lava sprite on the other." The summer spirit smacked a hand against his forehead before slowly dragging it down his face.

"They're going to be bickering all night," he groaned.

"Yeah, well, let's just hope it stays at bickering; you know who I'm next to?"

"They didn't- Lily?"

"You'd better believe it." Jack ran an anxious hand through his already tousled white hair- Tooth had made him comb it, but looking at him now no one would be able to tell. "This sucks- it only started half an hour ago, and I hate it already. I can't believe it's going to become a regular thing!" A small smirk tugged at Pierre's lips.

"Once a decade is hardly what most would call regular, Jack."

"It's more regular than me seeing you!"

"Touché. Do you know what the plan for the evening is?"

"It's semiformal, so it's pretty boring- it starts with mingling, and then after an hour of mingling we sit down and have a meal and make _nice pleasant conversation_." The last part is said with a scowl. "After three courses, it's time to dance- waltzes and foxtrots and all that stuff. You know, assuming no fights break out over dinner, which I don't."

"It does look remarkably like they just tried to seat everyone with the worst possible person," murmured Pierre. Jack snorted humourlessly.

"Tell me about it- at least they've stuck to one awful pair per table, rather than giving some poor sap everyone to deal with." He grabbed another handful of hors d'oeuvres. "Mini quiche?" Pierre just looked at him, and he shrugged. "Okay, suit yourself."

"Didn't you say it was a three course meal?"

"I eat a lot."

"Funnily enough, I believe you." The chiming of a small bell interrupted their idle chatter, and Jack groaned. "I take it we have to be seated?"

"Yeah," muttered the winter spirit. "It was nice knowing you." Pierre gave him a sympathetic look, knowing full well that Jack hadn't spoken to Lily since the Karma incident. Now they would be next to each other for the duration of the meal, and- well, he was definitely going to have a words with Jack's so called 'family' later, guardians or no.

* * *

**And for anyone interested, me and a fellow writer- Thing3 - have made a joint account together called Frace, for our brain children. It's pretty silly, and it doesn't have much on it, but if you've nothing better to do then we'd appreciate you checking it out :)**

**And again- REVIEW!**


	32. The decennial party- part 2

**Hello, my friends and followers (and hopefully reviewers too)! Welcome to (drumroll) my longest chapter in a long time, standing at 3, 820 words! *whoops and cheers from the side* Yes, yes, thank you, thank you :)**

**On a more serious note... no, I don;t really have a more serious note, except to say that as well as being long this chapter is pretty heavy, and links in stuff to the Karma/Gaia/I don't even know anymore arc which we will be returning to in roughly twenty chapters time. So, as always, enjoy, and please review.**

**Oh, yeah, and like with anything to do with Lily and the other spirits, there are some swears (they are a rowdy bunch!)**

* * *

The spring spirit was already in her seat by the time Jack had made the unwilling journey over. His smile was as cold as the snow he spread as she cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Hello, Frosty- long time no speak. It's been, what? Nearly seventy years? Not since '58, unless I'm very much mistaken." It's so similar to another conversation he had with an old rival that Jack pauses, giving her the squint eye. She pulls an upset face. "You're not still mad about that... are you?"

"Yes," he said flatly; "I am." With a sharp tug he yanked the chair out and collapsed into it, scowling heavily. He hadn't just not spoken to her since that ill-fated year, he hadn't seen her at all. The sight of her angelically beautiful face, with its large, pale green eyes and gleaming blonde hair waving gently around it, was enough to drag up all those memories he had tried to squash down. The last time he had seen her, those eyes were filled with tears, the hand gently cupping his face as she whispered "I never meant for this to happen." But who had organized it in the first place? She had- she and Herbst.

"Aw, _Jackie boy_," the nickname was said with a sneer, as it always was- he didn't know where it had first come from, but they had been using it for centuries- "are you a widdle upset that the big mean spiwits beat you up? Do you want Aunty Bweeze to kiss your booboos better?"

"Why don't you just shut up?" he snapped angrily, turning to glare at her. "Don't you have someone else to bother? I heard what the burrowers did to that pixie of yours a few weeks back, why don't you go get them?" She smirked and leaned forward, putting her mouth right next to his ear.

"Because I'm a complete and utter bitch," she murmured, warm breath tickling his hair, "and for the next hour or so, I am going to make your life a living hell."

"Go fuck yourself," he whispered back, and she giggled, simpering at him.

"But this is far more fun."

At that moment, the entrée was brought out, cutting their conversation short. She cocked an eyebrow at him before savagely stabbing a knife into the mini-fillet, snickering at his flinch. The next second, though, her food was frozen solid, and it was his turn to smirk at her. Suddenly his chair was roasting hot, and she was grinning, fiddling with her hair and staring the other way. Jack fidgeted uncomfortably, sweat beginning to bead his brow, and she turned to look back at him.

"This could be a very long meal," the spring spirit said sagely, "unless we cut the savagery and keep our attacks verbal; agreed?" For a second Jack didn't reply, and the heat increased exponentially, burning his skin and making his eyes water.

"Fine!" he managed through gritted teeth, and suddenly everything was back to normal. A quick glance around proved that no one had noticed anything remiss, although, thinking about the seating arrangement, it could have been that they were too invested in their own problems. With great reluctance, he turned back to her. "What do you want to talk about, oh whoreish one?"

"Anything that pleases you, my cockless bastard." Her voice was dripping with honey and venom, and it sent a shudder of horror through Jack that he couldn't quite repress. "What's the matter? Am I scaring you? Worried I'm going to cut you? To burn you? Tie you up and leave you without food until the bonds rot? Tell the wood nymphs you called them cowards and watch as they... punish you for it?" With every question she leaned further forward, green eyes glowing in the soft light of the chandeliers, a predatory smile twisting her lips. Jack gulped- she could do any of that and not lose an hour's sleep over it. He knew; she had done it all before.

He was saved from answering by a furious yell echoing from the other side of the room. Everyone froze and looked over to see the leprechaun, red with rage, standing on the table and glaring down at Lady Liberty, who returned the glare with equal ferocity.

"You were a drunkard! A self-centred prick who was too pissed to even realise that she didn't love you anymore! And hadn't for years before she left!"

"Is that so, _Lady Liberty_? Well, I see you took the liberty of helping yourself to my wife! Filthy whore, I oughtta-"

"Stop it! Both of you!" screamed Lady Luck desperately, tugging at her wife's arm while looking at her ex with large, pleading eyes.

"Shut it!" roared the leprechaun. "You didn't even talk to me, you spineless excuse for an immortal! You just ran off with this Americanised trollop who-" He never got a chance to finish that, because a mean left hook from said 'Americanised trollop' sent him flying.

"Get up, you shit!" yelled a now irate Lady Liberty. "Or are you too pathetic to do even that?! Hey- let go of me!" She had been grabbed from behind by one of the yetis, as had Lady Luck, and the leprechaun was lifted clean off the ground by a third. They were dragged, kicking and yelling, to the doors, and thrown from Santoff Clausen without ceremony.

Slowly, the soft murmur of conversation filled the room, and Jack found himself once again under the scrutinising gaze of the spring spirit.

"Well, well- dinner and a show; and here I thought this was going to be boring. Tell me, Frost- is your family thick or do they like stirring up trouble?" Jack scowled, his fists clenching.

"I don't need to explain them to you," he growled. She quirked an eyebrow and smirked.

"Oh, tetchy- I'm guessing it's the former, then. Although, you were all made by Manny, so I suppose anything goes with you lot." Somehow, Jack's scowl deepened.

"Shut up."

"How much did Gaia tell you? Do you know about Notus? About Boreas? I bet your precious family haven't mentioned a word. Ever wondered why we all have helpers and you don't? Ever wondered why Pierre even bothered talking to you? He's a nice guy; has plenty of friends. Why would he waste his time with a useless nobody like you?"

"I said shut up." Jack's voice was rough, ragged, his eyes unable to leave Lily's.

"I think she told you enough to piss you off- she was good at things like that. But if you want the truth, the whole truth I mean, then I'm the only one who can help."

"Oh, yeah?" Jack barked out a humourless laugh. "And how the hell would you know?" Her teeth glinted in the flickering light of the candles as she smiled cruelly.

"I was Gaia's favourite- I. Know. Everything. You can't ask her, because she's... well, Notus only knows where Sandy stuck her. Manny has already proved he doesn't like you knowing more than is good for you. Or anything really. And Pitch... well, I doubt he'd want to talk to you, after that whole... incident, five years back. So come with me, now, and I can answer every question your little heart desires."

* * *

"This... is not going like I planned," admitted North as Mirage shot bolt after bolt of fire at Rika, all the while screaming profanities, some of which the Cossack had never even heard before. The security yetis hustled her out, the Norwegian elf quickly following. As the doors slammed shut, the guardian of wonder sighed. "Fetch me more champagne," he ordered one of the yetis, who quickly complied. Thankfully, the meal would soon be over- dancing always made everyone feel better. Right now, though, he had a migraine and the very strong desire to get drunk.

On the other side of the room, Bunny was not faring much better. He had been caught in the crossfire of an argument between a spring pixie and a burrower, and was now stuck listening to Cupid's vapid chatter about true love and finding the one, or something like that.

"Hey, Phil- uh, more champagne please. A lot more. Yeh know what, just bring the whole bottle. As quickly as possible."

However, at that moment another fight broke out, this time between a water nymph and a lava sprite. Bunny noticed Pierre Soleil pushing his chair away quickly as the two tousled on the floor. The summer sprites off to the side chanting 'Fight! Fight! Fight!' really didn't help. One of the yetis trying to break them up caught fire, while another found himself drenched to the bone in ice water. As more rushed in to try and alleviate the situation, a sharp crack resounded from another table, where Tooth had finally lost patience and slapped Baby New Year. Cupid, completely oblivious to all this, continued to prattle on.

"But I told him, I could never date someone who tortures people for fun, and anyway after what happened... well, you know what happened in the fifties, of course you do, but anyway, it was clear that it would just never work out so I went to Ember, who-" Bunny watched as Phil tried to put his friend out, only to catch fire himself. North was shouting and Sandy had formed a chain of elves to pass buckets of water down while the summer sprites were whooping and cheering.

"Ah'll be right back," he interrupted, not sparing Cupid's disappointed pout a second glance as he hurried over to North and Phil, who was now extinguished but still smoking slightly. The water nymph and the lava sprite had been ejected, and Bunny overheard Tooth explaining to Sandy how New Year was going to need more than just a quarter if he came near her again. Somehow, the Pooka didn't doubt it.

"How many is that now?" He hadn't realised how stressful this was until he realised how terse his voice sounded. "A dozen? North, mate, by the time this party is over we'll 'ave kicked out half the guests!"

"I know!" snapped the Russian, sounding no less stressed. "I know. Everything seems to be falling apart, and I don't know why." He lowered his voice to a point where even Bunny's ears had to strain to catch it over the buzz of angry conversation. "Gaia has been gone for two years now! I thought they meant to have gotten better!"

"So did I, mate," replied the Pooka, "but it sure doesn't seem like it. Ah say yeh get this meal done as soon possible. Maybe they'll be nicer when they're not stuck with each other?"

"I can only hope so," muttered the Cossack gravely, before hurrying off to talk to Phil. Bunny groaned at the thought of returning to Cupid's wittering- he didn't even know who she was talking about; Herbst, or someone like that. He honestly didn't care, but Tooth had warned him about what would happen if he was rude to the guests. Funnily enough, the thought of his skin meeting hot pokers was even less appealing than the love spirit's ramblings, and he returned to where he was seated.

* * *

"You're lying," Jack managed finally. Lily just smiled to herself and continued to gaze at the stars- and the moon. "You're lying," he repeated, more loudly this time, as though he were trying to convince himself of it.

"I think you know I'm not- why would I, when the truth stings a thousand times worse than anything I could come up with?"

"You said it yourself- you're a bitch. Even if you didn't come up with this, someone had to... was it Herbst? What about River, she's good with her words; or a wood nymph. It was a wood nymph, wasn't it?"

"The glen watchers know nothing of this!" Lily snapped, her patience growing thin. "And they shall not- is that clear? Why do you think we came here? There's no chance in winter that all the watchers are at North's party."

'Here' was a high cliff in the frigid night deserts of Saudi Arabia, a place Jack could admit that he definitely didn't visit too often. Breeze sat with her legs hanging over the edge of what was probably a dizzying drop- he could no longer say- face tilted to the heavens. It was the calmest he'd ever seen her, and she looked different- at peace.

"I don't want to believe you."

"I don't care."

"You know what this means?"

"Probably a hell of a lot more to you than it does to me; then again, I'm not the one realising just how fucked up his existence is. Really, how did you not see this coming?"

"And you would have?"

"Not all of us have ice chips for brains, Jackie."

"How long have you known this?"

"I knew some bits from the start- Gaia's favourite and all; you know, she _hated _you. Not that I blame her, but anyway: I digress. Other bits I put together, and she admitted I was right. It was a while before I got the whole picture, but when I did- well, it just made my month."

"I'm so happy for you."

"For someone to whom the truth has just been revealed, you're an awfully ungrateful little shit, aren't you?" Jack had to bite down the 'takes one to know one' that immediately sprung to the tip of his tongue, and focused on the matter at hand.

"How much does Pierre know?"

"I've no idea- why don't you ask him? Oh, right: you're not really friends, are you? Don't look at me like that. You see him every few decades; if that's what you call a friend then you're even more desperate than I thought."

"Are we finished here?"

"Yes, I think so; with any luck we shan't see each other for another decade, and hopefully next time I won't have to endure the urge to claw out my eyes that comes from sitting next to you."

"Don't worry. I'll make sure we're on opposite sides of the room entirely."

"Oh please, as if you didn't try that this time."

"Excuse me?"

"You wanted to sit next to me about as much as a person wants syphilis. Unless you somehow developed the ability to shut up, I doubt you didn't voice your opinions to the guardians. It's too bad your family doesn't care enough to listen- they could have saved themselves a lot of trouble tonight if they had." And before Jack could reply, she threw herself from the cliff and shot into the night. He was silent for a moment before turning and flying in the opposite direction- he needed time to think.

* * *

"That... was a total disaster," sighed Tooth, collapsing into a chair at the table where North, Sandy and Bunny were already looking miserable.

"Yeh're telling me," groaned Bunny, and Sandy nodded.

The last of the guests had finally left- it was five in the morning, and a stark reminder as to why most spirits tried to avoid alcohol: they brought a new meaning to the term 'lightweight.' Most of the decorations had been burned to a crisp, and those that weren't were slowly disintegrating in various puddles on the floor. The walls were smeared with dessert- courtesy of the spring pixies- there was a hole in the floor where one of the burrowers had just decided to up and leave, and before their eyes a singed Phil was trying to work out how to get a passed-out Baby New Year down from one of the chandeliers.

"It... definitely could have gone better," admitted North. Tooth had half a mind to award him understatement of the year, but quite honestly she just couldn't be bothered.

"Where are my fairies," she groused, "I need caffeine."

"I have coffee in kitchens if you want," offered North, which only made Tooth snort.

"Oh, please- as though coffee is enough. I sleep for fifteen minutes a week, if that; I drink something much, much strong- oh, thank Mim!" A group of fairies swooped in bearing a large copper pot filled with an acrid smelling liquid.

As she was gulping down the... whatever it was, Bunny looked up and noticed a weary looking Pierre slowly walking towards them. The summer spirit did not look happy, and for a moment the Pooka was worried that Gaia was back. North had noticed him too, but had broken out in a wide grin.

"Pierre- it is good to be seeing you!"

"I wish I could say the same," he muttered, and grabbed a chair. "We need to talk."

"About?" prompted Bunny.

"About Jack."

"Jack? Why do- actually, where is the gumby?"

"He left before the main course had been served."

"He did what?" asked Tooth, dropping the now empty pot and turning a scandalised gaze towards the summer spirit. "But we're the hosts! He can't just leave!"

"Maybe it's because of who you sat him next to!" Pierre snapped, a hint of irritation breaking through his calm to colour his voice. The guardians paused.

"Who did we sit him with?" asked North finally. Pierre was a pacifist, but right now he wanted to punch them all. Instead he just pursed his lips.

"Lily Breeze," he gritted out. "You know- the spring spirit."

"Yeah, mate, so what's wrong with that?"

When Pierre had called the guardians clueless, he hadn't meant it in a bad way- he was simply making an observation, and at least part of it was in jest. Now, however, he wondered if they truly were thick. His expression deepened into a glare, dark eyes flashing.

"Have you truly forgotten what you learnt before, or do you simply not care? Quite frankly I don't know which would be worse, but after the events of tonight I'm inclined to believe the latter."

"Pierre, just tell us- there's no need to be so cryptic." It was Tooth, feathers fluffing in annoyance as she scowled at the summer spirit.

"Lily and Herbst were the first ones to beat him. Lily was the one who hated him most- it was her who would organise the gangs to go after him, it was her who hurt him most. She was the one who organised the hunt which resulted in the scars you see covering Jack, and you think it is a good idea to seat them together at a dinner party." Bunny opened his mouth to argue, but Pierre ignored him and ploughed on. "You have no knowledge of the relationships between the other immortals, you have made no effort to learn since the incident with Gaia, and you ignore the one person in your group who could have helped you with that. And no, Tooth, don't even try to say that you haven't been ignoring him, because he said to me, and I quote- 'I was trying to tell them, but they haven't really been listening.' Because of this, you had physical fights breaking out left, right and centre, and had to kick out more than two dozen of your guests."

"Well, how were we meant to know they still act like children?" snapped North angrily. The summer spirit stared at him, incredulous.

"You could have asked the spirit that sees them on a regular basis! Instead, you stick him next to the bitch that once tied him up and left him to starve. You're his family- start acting like it." With that, a warm gust of air blew through the room, snatching Pierre away.

The guardians were silent for a moment, the truth crashing over them like waves breaking against a rocky shore. Tooth's wings drooped, as did Bunny's ears. North was gnawing on his bottom lip and symbols were appearing over Sandy's head too fast to read, though they could certainly get the gist.

"I'd better go find him," said the Pooka finally, and tapping on the ground, he left.

* * *

It took several hours for Bunny to find Jack; the spirit of winter had himself pretty well hidden, curled up inside a hollow oak somewhere near Normandy. When the guardian of hope knocked gently on the side of the tree, azure blue eyes only flicked to him for a moment before darting away again.

"Hey," said Bunny softly. "Wanna come out?"

"No." For a moment there was silence, then the soft rustle of dead leaves as Jack slipped out and slid down to the ground, sitting with his back against the oak.

"Jack, we're sorry about-"

"Don't." The immortal child still refused to look at him. "I don't want you to apologise; I don't want you to feel bad. I just need you to promise that you'll never do it again."

"We promise, mate. We messed up, and we know it, but we can swear that it will never happen again." Jack swallowed thickly, and nodded once.

"Okay then." Bunny sat down next to him, and took a good long look at his face- it was hard and angled in a way that looked wrong; it wasn't an expression to be worn by the guardian of fun, and it made the Pooka's gut wrench.

"For what it's worth, Jack- we really are-"

"I thought I said don't." The silence seemed to stretch on forever, not awkward, but stiff and uncompanionable. Once again, around Jack it seemed off, and eventually Bunny couldn't take it anymore.

"Mind telling me what's on yehr mind?"

"Why?"

"Yeh don't look happy, and I want to know what's bothering you."

"You shouldn't feel guilty."

"But I do, Jack, and yeh know it; so what are yeh thinking about?"

"A hundred years ago next week, Lily found me after a bunch of summer sprites got me. She pushed me down, tied me up, and left me in this tree to rot."

"How long were yeh stuck there?"

"Five weeks. I was delirious and half dead by the time I slipped the bonds."

"What about Pierre?" The youngest guardian barked out a harsh laugh.

"I hadn't seen him for nearly twenty years at that point, and I wouldn't see him for another three afterwards. Do you see what I'm trying to tell you?"

"Yeh could... um... no, haven't the faintest."

"I was delirious and half dead, but I slipped the bonds. People talk, say I was trapped until they rotted, but they're wrong. I didn't need anyone, not the guardians, not Pierre, and especially not Mim to come to my rescue. So you'd better keep to that promise, because if not- well, fool me once and all that jazz. It certainly won't happen a third time." With that, the winter spirit climbed to his feet, gave the Pooka a mocking salute, and vanished on a chilly gust from the north wind. Bunny sighed to himself.

How was he going to explain this to the others?

* * *

**Like? Hate? Requests? Want to tell me about your dream last night? Leave a review!**


	33. Conversations

**I'm so sorry for the slow update! I've had such bad writer's block, and I wanted to write something fluffy for you guys, but this was all I could get out, and I really don't like it but I wanted to give you an update so please don't kill me!**

* * *

"So, Pitch: let's talk about you."

"And why on Earth would you want to do that?"

"Because when you come all we seem to do is to talk about me."

"Well, you are _radiating_ fear."

"Yeah, but I'm probably also radiating _boredom_, something I doubt is too pleasant for your bogeyman sensibilities."

"Touché. Very well then, what do you want to talk about?" There's a pause; Pitch suspects that Jack wasn't really expecting him to agree, and so has nothing ready.

"Do you dream?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Because we've already covered that I don't- not when I'm awake at least. So do you? Or is Sandman just deliberately skipping me?"

"There is a steel cauldron in the centre of the Glade that contains Sanderson's dream sand which he refills every decade or so. That's how the spirits receive their dreams. Anyone welcome in the Glade is welcome to help themselves."

"So not me then?"

"Oh, no, Jack; never you. Especially not after this." There is a long pause, and Pitch can feel Jack digesting the news. He may only gain power from _fear_, but he can sense all negative emotions: loneliness, depression, insecurity, paranoia, the works. Finally the boy begins to speak again, and something in his voice is different. It is almost as though he has resigned himself to his fate, and now sees no point in maintaining his defences. The child sounds _vulnerable_.

"Why do they hate me?"

Ah. Well, that would require a rather lengthy explanation, one that Pitch feels no need to bother with. He might as well just play to the child's insecurities instead- seasonal spirits are powerful, and though Jack has never bothered defending himself Pitch believes he could be a useful ally. All he has to do is turn him against the guardians, and the easiest way to do that seems to be to turn him against everyone who isn't the nightmare king.

"You're annoying. You're sloppy. You spend your time desperately trying to be seen by the mortals. You're destructive. You're a murderer."

"Shut up."

"What's the matter, Jack? Not even going to bother denying it?"

"No point- you wouldn't listen to me anyway."

"Oh? So I'm wrong in saying you watched his eyes glaze over, watched his body go rigid as you purposely froze that man to-"

"GET OUT! GET AWAY FROM ME, JUST... just leave me alone..." the last is said in a broken whisper, and when Jack looks up, Pitch is gone.

* * *

"I hate you."

"Oh, Jack, you wound me deeply; is that the only way to greet your only friend?"

"You are not my friend."

"Oh, yes, I'd forgotten: you don't have any."

"You're so witty, Pitch. You should get a stand up comedy act."

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of humour, Jack."

"I prefer to think of it as the nature's defence against stupid."

"Says the sprite who spent three days last year trying to disentangle himself from barbed wire."

"Fucking glen watchers. And it's spirit. **Spi-rit. **Not a sprite. You don't get winter sprites."

"Ah, of course not- I mean, it's not like you get summer sprites, or spring pixies, or autumn brownies or anything like that. It's not like yours is the only season with a sole custodian, left to do his work alone. Why is that, Jack?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know? No one tells me anything. Go ask Gaia, or Manny; hey, if you can get Manny to talk to you, tell him I hate him too. You can form a club!"

"I don't think that's advisable. Manny and I, well... we aren't on the best terms."

"What with you always trying to stab his babies?"

"My, Frost, do I detect a note of jealousy in your tone?"

"No, you do not."

"Oh? So you're not jealous that Manny has time for them and not you?"

"No."

"That they receive attention, palaces, believers, while you and I are left to languish."

"Nope."

"That's good to know. Envy is so unattractive."

"Is that what happened to your face?"

"Perhaps you should get your own comedy show... too bad no one will be able to see the comedian." Pitch feels Jack stiffen at his words.

"Did I mention that I hate you?"

"I believe that was just the second time."

"In that case, I'll make it a nice, round three: I hate you. I hate you, I hate the man in the moon, I hate Herbst and Breeze, I hate Bunny and North, I hate the summer sprites and the lava sprites and the volcano spirits and the glen watchers-"

"Why not Sanderson and Toothiana?"

"What?"

"You left Sanderson and Toothiana out. Why?"

"Well, I've never met Tooth. She could be evil for all I know, only she never leaves that tower, so I don't know. Why would I hate someone I don't know?"

"And Sanderson?"

"Sandman's nice. I see him sometimes, when he isn't too busy. He lets me sit on the cloud and watch him work."

"How magnanimous of him."

"What's that when it's at home?"

"Pardon?"

"Never mind. More slang."

"Perhaps I should buy a dictionary." There is a long pause.

"Did you just make a joke that wasn't at someone else's expense?"

"I won't tell if you won't."

"That's-? Damnit."

* * *

"Hey, Pitch."

"'Sup, Homie."

"I'm sorry, **what?**"

"I've decided I don't like slang- it sounds absolutely ridiculous."

"Yeah, coming from you it does!" The immortal child cracks up, leaning against his staff in an attempt to stay upright.

"You are hardly one to laugh."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're huddling in the bottom of the cave, alone in the darkness as you hide from those that hunt you like a mere animal. My attempts at slang pale in comparison to the joke that is your existence. But that is not why I came."

"Well, then, why did you come?" Snaps the winter spirit.

"I come bearing good news and bad news." Jack pauses, and Pitch feels a flicker of doubt running through the boy.

"Okay, bad news first."

"They are close to working out where you are- they have narrowed their search to Australia and New Zealand, and some rather... unsavoury individuals have joined the hunt."

"More unsavoury than Herbst or the summer sprites?"

"Much."

"Well, that's worrying- what's the good news?"

"I found a lost shard of humanity embedded deep within my soul, and so have brought you a bread roll." Jack snatches it from him, biting into it hungrily as his wide eyes glowed with gratitude.

"Why?"

"I want you to be able to last until they find you."

"Why?"

"Because the moment they do the amount of fear you give off will be glorious."

"That's creepy.

"Jack, have you forgotten? I am the _Nightmare King._"

"Do you have any more bread?"

"No."

"Will you bring me more?"

"Perhaps- it depends how long it takes those inbreds to find you."

"Would you kill me if I said thanks?"

"Most likely."

"You're about to leave again, aren't you?"

"After you promise me something."

"What?" The suspicion is clear in Jack's voice.

"I have not only kept your location secret, I also brought you food- all I ask is that you do not mention these conversations to anyone."

"What's the matter, Pitch? Embarrassed to be seen talking to me?"

"Yes."

"You're a dick, you know that?"

"But I am the closest thing you have to a friend- what does that say about you?"

* * *

"All those years in the shadows I thought, no one else knows what this feels like. But now I see I was wrong." Something about this was off. Pitch may have gotten his attention before, but Jack had always trusted his gut, and now it was telling him that there was something he wasn't remembering. "We don't have to be alone, Jack. I believe in you. And I know children will too." For a moment, hope filled him, and he let his concerns go.

"In me?"

"Yes! Look at what we can do!" The pointed sculpture looms above them, the dark and twisted sight of it seeming to stab holes into Jack's very soul- it was horrible. The nagging feeling returned. "What goes together better than cold and dark? We can make them believe. We'll give them a world where everything, everything is..." Ah. No. Big surprise, the bogeyman is lying. _I though no one else knows, my ass!_ Jack thought to himself, before turning to look at Pitch.

"Pitch black?" The nightmare king froze, realising he'd been rumbled.

"And Jack Frost too. They'll believe in both of us." It was a desperate attempt, and they both knew it, but just in case Pitch didn't quite get it Jack made sure to drive the point home.

"No, they'll fear both of us. And that's not what I want."

* * *

**People talk about how good of Jack it is that he stays loyal to the guardians even after what they did to him, but in my opinion he's not doing it for the guardians, he's doing it for the children, because no matter how bad life is for him he would never want to hurt them. Meh, just my thoughts.**


	34. Mediator

**So, yeah, my muse is being a bitch right now and refusing to come out and help; however, I was looking through old ideas, and managed to get out this bit of funny/fluffy stuff. It's a fairly short chapter, and I'm not thrilled with it, but I wanted to give an update, so here you go**

* * *

It had started over something petty- Jack couldn't even remember what it was, and he was sure that if he asked Bunny the Pooka wouldn't either. All he knew was that, when Sophie found them, they were rolling along the shore of the lake, landing nothing more than weak hits and irritated insults. The angry shriek of the eight year old pulled them up short.

"Bend down," ordered Sophie, and, glancing at each other uncertainly, the two guardians complied. She proceeded to grab them each by an ear and drag them, whining and protesting, back to her house and into her bedroom. "Sit." They sat down in two undersized doll's chairs, shooting glares at each other when the blonde turned away.

"Hey, Soph, how's it-" began the winter spirit, only to be cut off.

"No talking!" Bunny snorted, but then Sophie rounded on him and he fell silent- neither of them had ever realised how truly _terrifying_ small children could be when they chose to. Jamie didn't appear to be home at the moment, and they were left to her mercy. "Now," she said, almost conversationally, "these were a birthday present, and I don't want to waste them on you. But you've forced my hand!" Jack's eyebrows shot up as Bunny bit his lower lip to keep from snorting again- what movies had she been watching?!

But then the eight year old pulled out two bottles of nail polish, one sparkly blue, one bright pink, and they both froze.

"Yeh're not planning on-"

"I said no talking!" It was Jack's turn to smirk as the Pooka was chastised. "Mom always says that it's impossible to argue when your nails are drying. So, I'm going to need your hands."

"Please say the blue is for me?" asked Jack, worried. A quick little nod of her blonde head, and the immortal child slumped in relief.

"What's the matter, mate- afraid of a little pink?" Jack's mind flashed back to him in a ruffled pink dress with lilac bows, and to the princess Jack doll currently sitting on his bed, and he scoffed.

"I'm just looking out for you, Bunny- I was worried it would clash with your eyes."

"Are yeh nuts? Blue and green go together great! It's more likely to clash with your eyes: too much of any colour ruins an outfit. Besides, pink and green are a level of clashing that I don't even want to think about!" Bunny stopped, as though only just realising what he'd said, and a wide grin broke out over Jack's face. "Not. A. Word." Growled the Pooka. Sophie, however, had listened curiously, and was now nodding.

"Bunny's right- blue and pink are much better than green and pink."

"What?!" protested Jack. "But I wanted the sparkles!" Bunny raised an eyebrow, and Jack scowled. "In a... butch, masculine way, of course."

"Yeah. Right. Admit it, yeh just want to feel pretty... bloody show pony."

"Fine!" snapped Sophie. "You can both have blue, but then I get to paint your toenails pink; deal?"

"Deal," the guardians agreed in resignation, and Sophie cheerfully got to work.

"While you wait for it to dry, I want you to think about what you've done and then apologise for it. No laying blame. Does that sound fair?"

"Yes," they sighed in unison, and Jack wondered if he shouldn't perhaps tack a 'miss Bennett' onto the end. For a while there was silence; then

"I'm sorry I called you an oversized plushie." Bunny looked up in surprise, staring at Jack over the head of blonde hair that was currently adding a second coat to his right thumb.

"Ah'm sorry ah said yeh've got ice where yeh're brain should be."

"I'm sorry I pulled your ears."

"Ah'm sorry ah took yehr staff off you. That was going too far." Sophie looked up and beamed at them both.

"Don't you feel better now?" They nodded, and told her they did, and after making them sit for another half an hour while their nails dried- in which they took it in turns telling the young girl embarrassing stories about the other- they were free to go.

"Hey, Soph?" asked Jack, hovering next to the window. "How do we get this off?" Her smile was practically evil, and he had to wonder for a moment if Pitch had been training her.

"Work it out."

* * *

"Tooth! Toooooooooooooth! It's not funny!"

"Please, Toothy; we're begging ya. Just tell us how to get it off!"

"Tooth! Stop laughing!"

The guardian of memories was clutching her sides as she desperately gasped for breath, tears of laughter soaking into the vibrant feathers on her face.

"I just... I... You two look beautiful!" She hiccuped and paused, before laughing harder. "It's the Jade incident all over again! Oh Mim! What are you? Jade and... and... Betty! Jade and Betty!" She was so amused by her own joke that she collapsed onto the floor in fresh peals of laughter. Jack and Bunny looked at each other and shrugged in resignation, before heading off to try North.

* * *

"North, mate, be serious!"

"Oh, da, because I can be so serious when you have pink... pink... pink toenails!" Their attempt to talk to North wasn't going much better.

"Come on, North! You've got all kinds of chemicals here! Surely you have something for it?"

"Only if you are happy with having whole hand burned off." Bunny yelped as an elf tried to eat his toe, and they gave up soon after.

* * *

"So now we're trying to work out how to get it off, only no one knows how!" Jack finished his explanation and they both looked at Sandy hopefully. The little golden man held up a figure in the universal gesture of _hold on a sec _before returning about a minute later with a bottle labelled 'nail polish remover' and a packet of cotton rounds.

"Mate... why do yeh have this?" Sandy raised an eyebrow as though to say _I can easily put it away again if you annoy me_ and Bunny hastily backpedalled. "Not that we're not grateful, ah just... yeh know what, ah don't even want to know." The oldest guardian nodded smugly, and left them to take it off. As soon as he was gone, Jack leaned forward and whispered

"We never speak of this again, agreed?"

"Agreed."


	35. Movie Night

It had been Jack's idea- all the fun ones were, or so he insisted, and even Bunny had to agree that yeah, that sounded about right.

The winter spirit didn't know why he'd been so surprised that the guardians had never seen a movie- they'd been a bit, well, self absorbed the past few hundred years, and the only one who really knew anything about modern technology was North. The workshop was equipped with speakers, and there was even a living room with a giant flat screen TV in it; Jack used it for cartoons, and he'd come in a few times before to see Bunny watching the cricket.

And so, just over a year after Jack first became a guardian, when no one was overly busy, the first guardian's movie night was arranged. They drew names out of a hat, and Bunny got to pick the movie. He chose something called 'Bridge to Terabithia,' thinking it looked fun- a movie about two kids who were friends, playing in their imaginary world.

Nearly two hours later the credits finally ended; the five guardians were just staring, frozen, at the screen in front of them, fat tears streaming steadily down their faces.

"My heart," whispered Tooth; "Oh, Mim, I think my heart just died." Bunny wrapped his arms around his furry torso, and North shuddered. Jack, clearly deciding enough was enough, mustered a shaky grin.

"Well, that was... heart wrenching. How about we watch a comedy now to take our minds off it?"

"We thought that was going ta be a comedy!" growled the Pooka.

"No, no, a proper comedy! Something really well known, something- oh! We could watch Mean Girls!"

"Why would we be wanting to watch movie about unpleasant children?" Inquired North, and Jack snorted.

"No, they're in high school, and-" he cut off as he realised who he was talking to. "On second thoughts, never mind; you guys probably wouldn't like it."

"Why don't we watch a kid's movie?" suggested Tooth, and Sandy perked up, symbols flashing above his head. "That's a great idea, Sandy! Can we watch Toy Story?"

They all agreed, and settled down again to watch, chuckling at the shenanigans Woody and the gang got up to.

When the movie ended, they were all feeling much better. It was late, however, and everyone had been yawning for at least the past hour.

"Don't even think about it," Bunny warned Sandy, who only smirked. North was still grinning, his belly aching from laughing so much.

"If toys in my workshop could move themselves, work would go much faster! Jack, you have remote, please turn of television. Jack?" They glanced at Jack, who had been sat on the end of the couch, leaning his head against the cool window.

His position hadn't changed, except for the fact that he was now sound asleep, a small smile tugging at his lips. Snuggled against him were about a half dozen slumbering elves, while a veritable flock of fairies slept on his shoulders, in his hood and in his hair. Tooth squeaked at the adorableness of the scene before them.

"He mentioned something about Gaia sending him to do a massive blizzard in North Canada; I guess it must have worn him out," mused the fairy queen.

"I shall fetch camera," North murmured, quiet for once in his life, and Sandy grinned, sending over a wave of dream sand that condensed into an image of them all together, talking and laughing. Bunny smiled gently and grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch, pulling it over the small form even though he knew it wasn't needed.

"G'night, Frostbite; sweet dreams."

* * *

**On the one hand, I want to update; on the other, I have written and deleted eight chapters in the past two days, only to settle for this. I might disappear for a while, see if I can't find myself a nicer muse to deal with.**


	36. Dustin Spirals and Frosted Help

**WHOO! An update! And one that I don't hate! *rolls on floor excitedly***

**So, yeah, I just casually did some intercontinental travelling, and while I was on the plane I was reading this book that's written in this style. I decided that maybe a different approach would help me writer's block, and hey presto! I have a chapter :D**

**Please review and tell me what you think- I might write something like this again in the future, if it feels right. Enjoy! (please just pretend the URLs make sense)**

* * *

**To: **Richard Briars

**From:** Joshua Manning

**Subject: **The ice sculptures

**Attachment: **Img.1, Img.2, Img.3, Img.4, Img.5

I've attached photos of the sculptures I was telling you about, and now have only two words for you.

Suck it.

* * *

**To:** Joshua Manning

**From: **Richard Briars

**Subject: **Re: The ice sculptures

Nice try, Manning, but I know doctored photos when I see them. If you want to get back at me for the chilli fries incident then you'll have to come up with something a _bit _cleverer than that.

* * *

**To: **Richard Briars

**From: **Joshua Manning

**Subject: **Re: Re: The ice sculptures

**Attached: **Vid.1

(In case it doesn't work, that's a video of us interacting with the ice sculptures)

I repeat: suck it.

* * *

**To: **Joshua Manning

**From: **Richard Briars

**Subject: **Re: Re: Re: The ice sculptures

...

* * *

"Analysis of the air bubbles in the ice of some of the sculptures reveals that they range in age from c.1780 to actually after the date of their discovery, according to a dedicated team at the Smithsonian. Many suggestions have been put forward, ranging from implausible to ideas worthy of their own sci-fi film. These suggestions include an ancient secret society whose sole purpose is to confuse, aliens, sentient penguins-"

* * *

www . thetruthisoutthere peopleofantarctica

**THE PEOPLE OF ANTARCTICA**

You have to read quickly, because we don't know how long we have before the government takes us down, but LISTEN CLOSELY! We've unlocked the truth and, god damnit, you deserve to know!

Stay away from the Smithsonian exhibit - in fact, just stay away from the greater Washington area! The People of Antarctica are not just some _pretty little ice sculptures_- they are, in fact, a curse, from Jokul Frosti, the Norse god of snow and ice, angry at his lack of believers! Summoned by the freemasons more than three centuries ago to cull out the poor and the weak, Jokul's plan to be believed in is only just being putting in to action. The People of Antarctica are only one of many steps to assemble a gang of followers before destroying the non-believers by bringing forth the next ice age.

* * *

**Title: **The stories of the People of Antarctica

**Author: **Dustin Spirals

**Price: **$9.99

**Avg. Rating: **4.7/5

**Biography: **Since their discovery in 2015, the People of Antarctica have been both a source of awe and trepidation, inspiration and confusion. Written from the view of the sculptor, a lonely winter sprite by the name of Jack Frost, the narration details who each person was, and what they represented.

**Comments (86)**

**Austin: **Spirals manages to perfectly blend joy and tragedy in this beautiful series of tales. The detail is simply incredible, and the way they all linked together. I especially liked how it all came back to Frost, and (SPOILER) the closing lines had tears in my eyes. **Rating: *******

**Jenna: **I wasn't too sure when I bought this book- I was concerned it would be another Da Vinci Code, a sensible enough looking book full of nothing but mad conspiracy theories. I am glad to say I was pleasantly surprised- despite each chapter telling a different story, it all came together in one over arcing plot that was beautifully planned and, as far as I can tell, without plot holes, something that very few authors manage these days. **Rating: ******

**E.A.B: **Eh, I've read better. **Rating: ****

**Daniel**: My mother bought this for my eight year old daughter as a birthday present, and (I'm rather ashamed to say) I ended up sitting behind her reading over her shoulder when she didn't finish it fast enough. I was gripped the whole way, and strongly recommend this book for anyone who has ever felt alone. **Rating: *******

**QueenFairy: **Ohmigosh! THIS IS SO EXCITING! I love everything about the People of Antarctica, and then I heard about this, and I saw that it was from Jack's point of view, I mean, HAVE YOU SEEN HIS TEETH?! They sparkle like freshly fallen snow! You must must must read this book, everyone should read it, and believe in Jack Frost! Believe! BELIEVE! **Rating: *******

* * *

www. frostedhelp . com

**Home Page**

Welcome to the official Frosted Help home page. For those of us who came here knowing what we do, we're glad to see you. For those of you who happened to stumble upon us, here's some basic information to help you get the general idea of the purpose behind this site.

Frosted Help is a support group for those suffering from bullying, homophobia, depression, self harm, eating disorders, suicidal tendencies, or any other problems that you just need to talk about. As well as forums for you to discuss your experiences, we offer a 24-hour emergency hotline as well as funding for those in need of therapy who can't afford to pay for it.

Frosted Help was inspired by a movement that started after the discovery of the People of Antarctica- a movement of people who find those in trouble, who are beginning to give up and are wondering if they've had enough, and leave them an ice sculpture in the same style as the People of Antarctica. Like the discovered sculptures, these little figurines are flawlessly carved and do not melt, no matter what heat they are placed in. They tend to resemble the receiver, and always arrive with an uplifting note, signed by 'Jack Frost.' No one knows who this group is, but from all of us here at Frosted Help, we'd like to thank you from the bottom of our hearts.

* * *

**To: Sarah **Hey, Sarah

**To: Random guy from work **Um, hey

**To: Sarah **What's up :)

**To: Random guy from work **Not much.

**To: Sarah **You free this Saturday?

**To: Random guy from work: **Depends- what do you have in mind?

**To: Sarah **I was wondering

**To: Sarah **Since I know how much you love art

**To: Sarah** If you want to go to see the new Smithsonian exhibit?

**To: Sarah **You know, the one with the People of Antarctica

**To: Vincent **I'd love to! :D

**To: Vincent **Come pick me up at eleven

**To: Michael **Score!

**To: Vincent **told ya she'd go for it ;)

* * *

It was sometime in the late eighteen-eighties, and I was flying through Manchester, which isn't something I do a lot- one of the other spirits sort of has a monopoly on England. Anyway, it had been a while since my last visit, and all of a sudden there were trains! You have to understand, I'd never seen one before, so of course I flew in to catch a better look. I flew down to a rail yard, where they were storing some ones that need repairs, and I was looking at the gears and stuff, trying to figure them out, when all of a sudden I heard a sneeze.

Normally, I wouldn't have been bothered- the trains were fascinating, and I had better things to do than get myself walked through again. But it was the middle of the night, you see, in mid-winter in England, so I decided to take a look.

On the other side of the train I'd been peering at, there sat this homeless guy- his clothes were dirty, falling right off him, his cloth hat barely more than a rag, and his face was smeared with a mixture of soot and stubble. One boot had a hole in it, and out of it stuck a sockless toe. Now, I think I've already mentioned that I don't feel the cold, but I knew this guy must be freezing.

The strangest thing, though, was what he was doing- he was leaning against a shipping container, an old, sputtering candle next to his head, and he was hunched over and peering at what turned out to be a tiny book. At first I thought it was the bible- he didn't look like he would last another week, what with how skinny he was- but then I took a closer look. You know what it was? A condensed version of Wuthering Heights. What the hell was a hobo doing with Wuthering Heights?!

Well, it turned out I was right- I came back two nights later and found him dead under one of the carriages, the book clutched tightly to his chest. I left when I saw- didn't come back to England until after the Titanic.

-_Extract from Stories of the People of Antarctica, by Dustin Spirals_

* * *

-"Now we turn our attention to the main piece of the exhibit, the 'Jack Frost' sculpture. This piece has been the focus of much research for several reasons- it is the only piece with a known name, it appeared more than a month after the others were found, and it was placed a little way away from them. Now, as you can see the 'Frost' sculpture has what appears to be a shepherd's staff. The looseness of the figures soldier, as well as the small smirk and they way it seems to be leaning against the staff, suggests a person of confidence, one who is aware of his surroundings and-"

* * *

**Item: **Woman with an umbrella

**Current bid**: $17 000 000

**Item description: **One of the oldest sculptures of the 'People of Antarctica' collection, the Woman with an Umbrella is an exquisite effigy of a Victorian woman with a hooped skirt, primly clutching a parasol to her as she appears to call to someone. The detailing of the skirt's hemline and the- Read More

**Interested in buying? Click ****Here**

* * *

**TheincredibleSoph**_**:**_ Well? Did you find it?

**Jack7rost: **Yeah, give me a moment, I'm just reading

**Jack7rost: **I'm a spirit! Spi-rit! Not a sprite!

**TheincredibleSoph: **I know :P

**TheincredibleSoph: **But I think sprite sounds better

**Jack7rost: **Yeah, well

**Jack7rost: **What sort of name is Dustin Spirals?

**TheincredibleSoph: **(link) www. thetruthisoutthere peopleofantarctica

**Jack7rost: **Don't avoid the question!

**Jack7rost: **Whoah, hold up

**TheincredibleSoph: **You know, they're not actually too far off

**Jack7rost: **I am not going to bring about the apocalypse!

**Jack7rost: **And I'm not vengeful!

**TheincredibleSoph: **I'm sorry, how many times have you frozen the warren?

**Jack7rost: **:(

_(Jack7rost has signed off)_

* * *

**_So what did ya think?_**


	37. Closure

**Hello! Do you remember me? I wouldn't blame if you don't! I know, it's been, like, 10 days, but... I'm back at school now :'( That's right, you read it correctly. That means weekly updates, and a few weeks from now it'll take two weeks because of an all-in weekend (which means I have to stay there over the weekend).**

**On the other hand- I think I've gotten past my writer's block! *cheers* This only took me about forty-five minutes to write! Whoop whoop! So please read, review, tell me you love me, all that good stuff :D Unless you don't love me- then read, review and tell me you hate me. Either way, please review!**

**By the way, this is set after the whole Gaia thing- I've had requests to do a chapter of him telling the guardians how he died, and I'm _working _on it, but I don't want it to be the same as all the other ones like it, so it could take a while. This, however, is set after he's told them. They've known for a while in this.**

* * *

Jack is sat, cross legged, on the roof of the workshop. He is in one of those moods. There isn't really a name to describe them. Bunny calls them 'going into a funk,' but that doesn't sound quite right. The closest he can come to describing it is an odd mixture melancholic, nostalgic, wistful and isolated. He doesn't tell the others this, though- no need to worry them.

So he'd told them he was going to his room to read; that was more than three hours ago. He hadn't really lied, because he'd been planning on reading. But he just couldn't get into it, so he's up here instead, trying to sort through his emotions.

"Jack?" asks a voice. No, he does not nearly fall off the roof in his surprise. Not at all. Not in the slightest. Nope.

"Um, yeah?" he manages once he's recovered himself. It's Tooth, having grown concerned and come looking for him. She flutters, shivering slightly, and he self consciously realises that, in his 'funk', he's made it snow.

"Are you okay? You seem kind of... down." He shrugs, unsure how to answer.

"I'm just in one of those moods, you know?"

"Do you want to tell me what's on your mind?"

"I was just thinking about my sister, and... well, I don't actually know what happened to her after I died. For the first decade or so I alternated between hiding in the woods and yelling at people to notice me. Didn't do a lot of observing. I kind of wish I had."

"You know... I'm the guardian of all memories, Jack; not just children's memories. I have... well, my palace isn't just for storing teeth. We could see what happened to her, if you want?"

"You... you can do that?"

"Come, we can do it right now if you want."

So, with a quick stop just to tell the others where they're going, Jack and Tooth head over to the Tooth Palace, Jack's heart doing an awkward little tap dance in his chest. Closure. He's finally going to get closure.

* * *

As they wander through a maze of twisting corridors, each one smaller and more convoluted than the last, Jack begins to get a sense of just how _big _the Tooth Palace is. He'd had a bit of an idea from the time he was playing with the fairies and ended up in the anaesthesia room, but this... this is something else.

The Tooth Palace has many secrets, and its inhabitants clearly are not going to relinquish them without a fight. As they pass door after unmarked door, he reaches for one of the handles, only to have his hand forcefully smacked away by a severe looking Tooth.

"Not that one," is all she says, before turning to continue on.

The trickster inside him is going nuts, begging to cause some chaos, but this is something Jack needs, something he doesn't want to screw up, so he keeps his hands to himself and contents himself with _looking_.

There are intricate murals on the walls, dulled by a thick layer of dust that seems to coat most of this part of the palace. The doors are nondescript, each the same as the last, and he wonders how anyone finds anything in this warren. Hell, the warren itself is probably easier to navigate!

Finally, they stop outside one of the dozens of doors. Tooth gives him a quick, reassuring smile before twisting the handle and pushing it open. Jack lets out a long, low whistle.

"Wow, Tooth- I didn't know you have a library." She laughs.

"There's a lot you don't know about me, or the palace. Anyway, this isn't a normal library."

"What is this place then?" But she isn't listening, wings thrumming rapidly as she scans the titles along shelves.

"Overland... Overland... Overland... ah!" She pulls off a massive tone that sends her to the floor in a cloud of dust. Next second Jack is there, helping pull her to her feet and pick up the book.

"Geez, Tooth! This thing ways a ton! What's in it?"

"The family history of the Colonial Overlands, dead in the male line since 1857." The winter spirit nearly drops the book in surprise

"What?!" She gestures for him to put it on the table, before pulling it open and scanning the contents, all written in a language that Jack has never seen before.

"Here we are- chapter 19 in the life of Emma Overland."

"Tooth, please explain."

"Have you ever heard people say 'that chapter of his life has come to an end?' Or 'she's starting a new chapter of her life?' Well, these are the books with all the chapters." Jack is speechless- he feels he has a right to be. Tooth frowns a little as she scans the page, but then her face brightens. "Oh good- it won't scar you and make you miserable." With that, she taps the book three times.

"Wha-?" The youngest immortal is cut off as a flash of gold engulfs him, and then he's staring at his younger sister. She's watching t an empty casket being slowly lowered into the ground, tears streaming down her face- he's at his own funeral.

Their mother, rounded again by pregnancy.

Darkness, the cold of self-imposed isolation, rain, a hatred of snow, a child crying, the stares of others when she ventures out the house.

Jack's heart is constricting and he feels ill, seeing how his death affected her- it's nothing he ever wanted to see, and every fraternal instinct is telling him to go to her, to comfort her, but she's been dead for nearly three hundred years and all he can do is watch.

Another empty casket, lowered into the ground- less than three minutes after discovering he has a younger brother, Jack discovers he disappeared aged five. No one ever found out what happened to him, and he doesn't know if he can bear this.

Then the memories begin to slow, and slow, until they stop entirely, and the scene changes.

* * *

"Emma?"

She supposes he has a right to sound surprised- she's barely been seen these last six years, and now she's just pitched up on his doorstep? She should have sent a note ahead. Should have given him some warning. It's what a good, polite person would do.

She wants to be good and polite. Jane and Phillipa Williams are good and polite, though, and Jack hated them more than anyone else. Then they had the audacity to cry at his funeral. She supposes she hates them a little bit too.

But she still wants to be good and polite.

"Morning, William- is your pa home?"

"Aye, I'm here," announces Mr O'Reilly, appearing with that uncanny knack of his the moment his name is mentioned. "What can I do fer yeh, lass?"

"I was wondering... well, forgive me for sounding forward, but I was wondering if there was any chance I could start learning my letters again? I could pay my bit, doing housework or darning clothes or something like that! I just really, really would like to know them, and I'm worried that I'll forget what you taught me."

Mrs O'Reilly, who had always been a quiet woman, had died six months before from smallpox, leaving behind Mr O'Reilly and his four sons, the oldest of whom was William. Emma's ma was going on about how unfortunate it was that there wasn't a woman in the house to take care of them, and Emma had jumped at the opportunity; after what had happened with Mathew... well, she isn't going to allow her grief to consume her any more. She's going to take control.

Mr O'Reilly leans against the doorway, eyes twinkling in a way that reminds her painfully of Jack, and behind him William grins.

"Well, that's kind of yeh, lass; but, you see, I've already set William to work on the darning and the sewing and the cooking." Emma pauses in surprise- she knew that the O'Reilly's were strange, but _this_? It does make her smile a little bit, though, on the inside. "However, there is one thing yeh can do me for?"

"What?" she asks, a bit uncertain.

"What with William doing the housework, I need someone to chop our firewood."

* * *

"Ho, Emma!"

"Good morning, Wil-" she catches herself. Good, polite people didn't call any but their closest friends by their Christian names, even if she had known him since she could toddle. "Mr O'Reilly." He raises an eyebrow.

"I don't see me pa around- what are you calling me 'Mister' for?" Her face blushes red as she attempts to stutter out some sort of apology, and now he's blushing too. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean any... you can call me William, if you want, um, Miss Overland." Emma pauses, never actually having been called miss before, and then a bubble of laughter escapes her. She extends her hand.

"Hello, William- my name is Emma" Rather than shaking it, like she expects, he lifts it to his lips and kisses it gently. She giggles again.

"William!" calls a voice suddenly. It's William's youngest brother, Richie. "I think the dinner might be burning!"

"Coming!" William replies, before turning back to Emma and giving a half bow. "Until next time, lady Emma."

* * *

"So?"

William is standing in what Jack recognises, with a start, as his old kitchen. It's been perhaps a year or two- his friend's shoulders have broadened and his jaw is more defined, but his face is clean shaven and he is dressed in what are clearly his smarted clothes. Sat at the table is Mr Overland, a severe expression on his face as he eyes the nervous youth in front of him.

"Don't rush me, boy!"

"Sorry, sir, I didn't mean to-"

"So you cook? And you darn clothes? And you do all the woman's work while you have _my only daughter _chopping firewood?" William's ears turn red, and though he's been trying to meet Mr Overland's gaze his eyes drop to the boards beneath his feet.

"That's correct, sir."

There is a long pause, in which William is clearly growing more and more uncomfortable under the scrutiny of his elder. Then, with a booming laugh, Mr Overland climbs to his feet and claps an enormous hand on William's shoulder.

"Welcome to the family, my boy! That is, if she'll have you." There is nothing but joy on the younger's face as he nods enthusiastically.

"Of course, sir! I'll ask her tomorrow!"

* * *

"Are you nervous?"

"Me? Oh, no, not at all... what about you?"

"Of course not; it's not like I'll be leaving my family to move in with the man I love or anything."

"Good. That's good. That you're not nervous, I mean. Because, you know, weddings are things you shouldn't have doubts about. Not that I'm having any."

"William?"

"Okay, perhaps I'm a little nervous!"

They're sat side by side on a log in the woods, watching the sun set. Their shoes are discarded in a pile next to them, as are their socks, and their feet are dangling in the stream. It's the night before their wedding, and they're both meant to be at home, resting.

"You're not having doubts, are you?"

"No! Of, Lord, of course not! I'm just... I'll not lie, your pa... well, both your parents... I feel like they don't like me very much. And I'm worried that they have good reason."

"You're taking their only child away from them- of course that scares them. But I know for certain that they like you- I have it on good authority."

"Oh, really?"

"Ma told me last night that Jack would have approved. William, that's the highest you praise you can get." She nudges him with a warm smile, and he smiles back, and then he takes her hand and returns to the village.

Jack tries to follow, to see what happens next, but he's frozen in place- the scene around him fades to black as wedding bells chime in his ears, and suddenly he's back in Tooth's library. He realises his face is wet with slowly freezing tears, and Tooth is smiling at him sadly.

"That- that can't be it! What happens next?!" She scans the page in front of her, before gently shutting the book.

"Twelve months later Mrs Emma O'Reilly gave birth to a little boy. The named him Jackson Overland O'Reilly. What's wrong, Jack? It had a happy ending."

"I know, I just... I didn't know I had a brother. And it's... hard to remember that my family... well, that they're dead." Tooth wraps him in a warm embrace.

"It's okay, Sweet Tooth. It hurts, I know- MiM only knows I know! But don't forget: we're you're family too. And we've made some mistakes before, but we'll always be here for you." He sniffles, and hugs her back.

"I know. And Tooth- thank you."

"If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask. I'm here for you. We all are."

* * *

**Oh gawd, it's so sappy! Oh geez! And please don't hate me for my attempt at an Irish accent.**


	38. The first believer

**Let's put it like this: school+work+writer's block= short, crappy updates that I feel obliged to give you**

* * *

Bunny knew what had happened the moment he saw Jack sat on the rock in his warren, lips desperately clamped together and eyes watering dangerously. He knew, because he'd seen that look on North's face before, seen it on his own, and if he'd been around at the time he probably would have seen it on Tooth's and Sandy's as well. And because of this, he ignored the fact that the entirety of his warren was covered in at least three feet of snow, and sat on the rock opposite next to his sort-of-younger-brother.

"Hey, Kangaroo- what's the matter, too tired to be angry?"

"Jack-"

"Because, you know, I could another foot or two if that would spur you into action!"

"Jack, mate, look-"

"Or I could freeze all the googies-"

"When did yeh find out?" Jack froze, and a forced smirk crawled across his face.

"I don't know what you're talking about, cottontail. Something you want to tell me?"

"No, but there's somethin' yeh want te tell me, so quit the chatter and get talkin'." Jack's smirk dropped, and his shoulders slumped, and then his whole spine went lifeless and his torso dropped forward, his head buried between his knees. Bunny almost missed the tiny little voice that murmured

"Jamie walked through me."

Bunny's heart clenched- he had known this was coming, but it still hurt. They all had known this was coming, except for Jack. No child managed to believe forever; Jamie was no exception. Hell, at seventeen they had to be surprised he had lasted this long, though it could be the visits he got from a certain guardian of fun every winter.

But nothing they knew of compared to the grief of losing your first believer. Bunny could remember his well- a gawky little kid called Edmund, who one year had just stopped coming to Easter egg hunts. North wasn't nearly as lucky- his first believer had died of smallpox, aged twelve. He didn't know about Tooth and Sandy- it was an unspoken taboo, to bring up someone's first believer. The guardians would always remember Jamie Bennett, but it was unlikely they would ever mention him again. He would be gone, erased, like he'd never existed, left as only cherished memories in Jack's heart. Bunny could still remember the grin on Edmund's face when the small boy had first seen the Pooka, and the warmth that had blossomed into his heart. He'd lost a lot in his lifetime, and Edmund was one of the losses that hurt him most. Bunny reached out a paw and put in on Jack's shoulder.

"Ah'm sorry, Jackie."

"I can't believe it. I just... I never thought... he's Jamie! He can't... Is this why you guys would stay cooped up in your palaces, instead of out with the children? Because this _hurts_."

"Ah know, Jackie, ah know. It hurts now, and it always will, but the good times make the hurt worth it. What was it that that guy said? 'It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.' Ah know you wouldn't trade the times you had with Jamie for anything." Jack sniffed, and Bunny looked away as the immortal child tried to discreetly rub the tears from his face.

"Yeah... thanks Bunny." He gently knocked his fist against the Pooka's fluffy shoulder and got up to leave, only to be pulled sharply back down onto his rump. "Ow! What was that for?!"

"And where do yeh think yeh're going?"

"To make it snow in Alaska."

"Oh no, mate- not without clearing up the bloody snow yeh've left here first! Just look at this place! It's a sanctuary of eternal spring, and yeh've gone and- Oi! Get back here!"

"You'll have to catch me, kangaroo!"

"Oh, you don't wanna race a rabbit, mate!"

* * *

**I won't be able to update next weekend because of my school's founder's day, meaning we all have to stay in for the weekend. I'll try and give you an extra-long chapter weekend after that to make up for the wait, and for... this.**


End file.
